


The Angel of Small Deaths

by Arcis



Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/F, F/M, Porn With Plot, Sorry Not Sorry, THIS FIC!, The lovers remain idiots, all aboard the angst train (whoop whoop!), all hail Pickles the cat, but also like catastrophic levels of fluff, but like also who cares about the plot when there's porn, dear god I made it gay, did I mention it's gay, idiots to lovers, not the idiots in this fic!, shove the plot through a blender and what do you get?, so very very gay, three two one let's go bitch, we die like real writers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:27:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 64,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27221956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arcis/pseuds/Arcis
Summary: Welcome to Miami. Shit’s going to get wild.Meet Manon Blackbeak: heir and queen to the Miami club scene. Meet Elide Lochan: a veterinarian who makes a mean homemade cookie. They are both, for the record, complete idiots. Because Elide is in love with Lorcan. Got it? Lorcan. Not Manon goddamned Blackbeak, her childhood love, her teenage dream, her best friend. No, she’s over that heartbreak. Totally, 100% over it. And Manon … Manon has loved Elide Lochan since they were eight years old and still has no goddamned clue what to do about it.There’s a bachelorette party. There’s a rogue gerbil in a strip club. There’s a cat named Pickles. There’s two idiots, who might, just might, find their way to becoming lovers. But they never stop being idiots. So welcome to Miami. Dive on in, the water’s fine.[This story is finished (I know miracles, miracles)! Chapters posted every 4-5 days]
Relationships: Aelin Ashryver Galathynius | Celaena Sardothien/Rowan Whitethorn, Asterin Blackbeak/Petrah Blueblood, Elide Lochan/Lorcan Salvaterre, Kaya Blackbeak/Thea Blackbeak, Manon Blackbeak & Elide Lochan, Manon Blackbeak & The Thirteen, Manon Blackbeak/Elide Lochan
Comments: 63
Kudos: 130





	1. I Swear to God

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome, welcome! This story was supposed to be a cute, little ficlet and then it became .... not so little. It's still cute, but now with a dash of angst, a heavy sprinkle of fluff, a solid dose of porn amidst the plot, and an absolute crap-ton of feels. As we all try to somehow survive this fucking wild year, follow me as I dive face-first into a Miami where the ToG characters run wild and our idiots to lovers are about to embark on the adventure of a lifetime ...

_Watch me walk out of here or be devoured alive._

_Daniel, into the mouths of lions._

_\- Unknown_

Lorcan.

 _Lorcan_.

Damn it. Damn him. Of all the ways Elide Lochan didn’t want to waste her life, the Miami club scene had to be at the top of the list. Yet here she sat, in a club, waiting for him, music pounding directly into her temples. 27 years old, and she had earned the goddamned right to no longer blast her brain cells out on a Friday night. Flagging down the bartender, Elide started on her second tonic ( _just_ tonic) and kept. fucking. waiting.

“Elide!” Asterin, her best friend’s cousin waved through the crowd, and my god a friendly face right now … Elide hugged the other woman real hard. “What the hell are you doing here?” Asterin shouted over the music and the shit singing and the thundering noise.

“Lorcan!” Elide yelled back, as if that explained everything. Because. Well. It did.

“Where is he?” Asterin asked, not even bothering to look around. Which. Really? Did everyone have to know that her boyfriend was just a little bit terrible at showing up to anything on goddamned time?

“I’m waiting.” Elide shrugged and prayed for the end of the world. A rain of frogs. A swarm of locusts. A downed Wi-Fi signal. Anything to wrap this conversation up like _now_.

“I’ll text Manon – let her know you’re here.”

“Oh no, you don’t need to – ” It didn’t work. Asterin was already typing into her phone, studiously ignoring everything Elide said. Traitor.

“You good?” Asterin asked, glancing up from her phone, those cheekbones that would make a sculptor weep ignited in white-blue light. “My set starts in ten and I need to prep.”

“Yeah, yeah, get out of here.” Elide responded, trying to subtly look for Lorcan in the smash of people. No such fucking luck. “Can’t wait to hear you.”

“Have some fun tonight. Although with Lorcan …”

“Yes, thank you Asterin.”

“Anytime!” Throwing Elide a smile and wink, Asterin slipped through the sea of bodies like a fish in water, a native in her element. Blond hair cascaded down her back in waves, catching and refracting the neon lights. Heads turned and Asterin grinned, waved, at total ease.

Sometimes, some nights, Elide stared into the bathroom mirror and wondered what it felt like to live with the surety of certainty. To be grounded down. Doubtless. Free.

Take a deep breath, take a deep goddamned breath Elide.

Craning her neck, she looked for Lorcan again. He wasn’t exactly easy to miss, especially now that he had that man-bun. Six and a half feet tall (as Lorcan was keen to remind everyone all the fucking time), and yet he felt the need to add another two inches. Ridiculous. And obvious. And currently not present.

Hissing through her teeth, Elide seriously contemplated just ordering shots, downing them, and getting the hell out of here. Three problems with that plan: shots were expensive and she was poor as shit, downing them would give her a headache and this place was already a migraine waiting to happen, and, well, she really wanted to see her boyfriend.

Call her a romantic. Call her a fool. Her friends and family were certainly fond of the latter.

Damn them all.

“What’s a girl like you doing in an establishment like this?”

A grin broke across Elide’s face, but she waited a long second before turning around. When she did, it brought her face to face with Manon Blackbeak, her childhood love, her teenage dream, her best friend on this fucking earth. Manon smiled back, a quirk of her lips, looking like a goddamned … well, have you ever felt your heart stop, just for a beat?

Like that.

“I told Asterin not to bother you.”

“Well thank god Asterin doesn’t listen to you.” Shooting the man occupying the bar stool next to Elide a look that promised unfortunate incidents in even more unfortunate places, Manon only had to wait a moment before he scrammed. Flicking her sheet of silvery blond hair over one shoulder, Manon settled next to Elide, resting her elbows onto the bar and taking the life of her suit jacket into her hands. In true Manon fashion, she wasn’t wearing a shirt underneath it, just a long gold pendant that dipped low between the curve of her breasts.

“Nice suit.” Elide quipped, because she could do this now. Look at Manon, compliment Manon, and not lose her fucking mind. It had only taken year after year of watching Manon take woman after woman home. Just repeated blunt force trauma. Now, she was over it. Over everything. Over Manon.

“Nice jeans.” Manon shot back.

“Okay, just so you know, I didn’t want to be here in the first place.” And maybe she wore her third best jeans to prove the point.

“That much is obvious.”

In response, Elide flipped Manon off.

“El, I’ve seen you try. This is not you trying.” Manon gave Elide one her sharp smiles, all white teeth and dark lipstick.

“Aren’t you busy?”

“Yes.” Manon responded simply. Leaning over, she gestured at the bartender. “Anything she wants is on the house.”

“Of course, Ms. Blackbeak,” he responded, immediately reaching over to refill Elide’s glass.

“Manon!” Elide hissed. “I can buy my own drinks.”

Manon, for her part, didn’t seem overly concerned. Ordering a glass of whiskey, she coolly scanned Elide up and down. “I own this club. Hell – I own Miami’s nightlife. Drinks are on the house, _babe_.” At that old nickname, Elide rolled her eyes and accepted the glass of tonic water. Before she could drink, Manon stole it and took a sip, making a face. “Seriously? You heard me say drinks are covered, right?”

“Yes, Manon. Despite Asterin’s best efforts, I still have eardrums.”

“Good. You should listen to your elders.”

“You’re 28, Blackbeak. Barely one year on me, oh wise one.”

The music ramped up and they both glanced over to where Asterin proved, once again, why she was one of the top DJs in the game. Feral and wild and a forest fire – Elide didn’t belong to the Miami underworld, but with Asterin at the helm, she’d dive in and follow the woman anywhere.

No way Asterin could see them, but Manon raised her glass in a toast to her cousin anyway. Mirroring the movement, Elide took a long drink. Despite the faces Manon made, Elide actually liked tonic water. She liked being sober at clubs even more. Especially if Lorcan decided to take tonight as opportunity to cut loose. _Someone_ had to be sane enough to still order an Uber.

“Salvaterre late?” Manon asked. The _again_ went unspoken. It was a very loud unspoken.

“Just a little.” Elide tried to casually look for Lorcan again, really wanting to avoid this particular conversation. Subtle wasn’t Manon’s middle name (it’s Elizabeth, in case anyone’s fucking wondering), and she didn’t like Elide’s boyfriend. That opinion made itself known.

“Mhmm.” Manon hummed, sipping her whiskey.

“You know I don’t need a babysitter.”

“You know I like seeing you.”

“Could’ve fooled me.” Elide tried not to let any bitterness seep into her voice. She didn’t try very hard. “It’s been two weeks since we’ve hung out. You didn't even answer my texts yesterday. But I saw your Instagram with that woman you're dating, what’s her name? Celina? Glad you guys are getting along so well.”

So the bitterness seeped out anyway.

“I’m sorry.” Manon reached forward, her silver rings cool against Elide’s overheated palm. “We are _not_ dating. More of a one night thing. And my fucking grandmother's had me – ”

But whatever shit Manon’s bitch of a grandmother had been stirring got cut off by the arrival of one Lorcan Salvaterre, all six foot five of him (plus two-inch bun).

“Elide!” Lorcan’s deep voice cut right through the nightclub’s noise and he swept her off the bar stool into a hug. Elide hugged him back, losing herself in the scent of expensive cologne and the warmth radiating off his skin. The man’s muscles had muscles. There were some distinct … benefits to dating a professional hockey player. Not bothering to set Elide back on the floor, Lorcan kissed her, a deep, possessive thing. Elide pulled back before the rating could escalate past PG-13, but her cheeks were flushed.

Damn.

“Sorry I’m late.” Lorcan said, kissing her again. Twice. Three times. “Got caught up with the boys.” His teammates, bros to their very bro-y cores, were further down the bar cheering and ordering shots.

“It’s fine.” Elide replied, like it really was.

When her feet finally met solid ground, Elide ran a hand through the mass of her brown hair and tried take a deep breath. She would need that breath in a second, because Manon was standing up and facing Lorcan, looking distinctly unimpressed. In five-inch heels, she clocked 6” 1’ and still didn't reach his eye height. But in a fight, Elide would put her money on Manon every time. She had seen the other woman box and Manon was a _bitch_.

“Salvaterre.” Manon said, voice cold.

“Blackbeak.” Lorcan’s tone wasn’t any more welcoming.

“Late. Again.” Remember what Elide said about Manon making her opinions known? Well here it was in action. Great, wonderful, please enjoy the shitshow.

Interrupting the standoff and the idiotic thing Lorcan was definitely about to say, Elide grabbed his hand and said, “You’re here now. Let’s go do … whatever the hell it is people do at clubs.”

“Dancing, babe.” Lorcan flashed her a smile and curled an arm around her waist, hand dipping to cup her ass. Manon’s face never cracked – _she never cracked_ – but when Lorcan called Elide ‘babe’ something in her amber eyes went sharp, like splinters.

“Sure, okay.” Elide shrugged and smiled, as if one action could cancel out the other.

Tipping her head to the side, Manon watched Elide, the gold flecks in her eyes igniting up in the dark room. “Text me,” Elide said to her in lieu of _I’m fine._ Knocking back the rest of her whiskey, Manon’s eyes cut over to Lorcan, who just winked.

“Have a nice night.” Manon said in reply, her voice flat.

“Oh, we will.” Lovely. Thanks Lorcan for diffusing the situation.

Grabbing Lorcan’s hand, Elide started dragging him towards the dance floor. No more awkward conversations tonight, no more. Good god please. Waving at Manon with her free hand, Elide shouted again, “Text me!”

The last thing she saw Manon do was run a perfectly manicured hand through her perfect silvery-blond hair like … maybe she felt just a little bit fucking frustrated. Like maybe everything wasn't perfect. Then the crowd and the lights swallowed them, and Manon was gone.

Lorcan danced past midnight, past one a.m., and Elide kept up, even when the old injury in her ankle throbbed. Limp be fucking damned. She’d pay for it tomorrow, and the next day, and the next day, but just for tonight she wanted to pretend that this couldn’t hold her down. Not anymore.

(A wish is fool’s gold.)

When they finally made it back to Lorcan’s apartment, he kissed her and kissed her as they stumbled back towards his bed. Burying the ache from her ankle back, far back, in her mind, Elide fell into the familiar motion of them. They made love, fucked, whatever word you want to call it – Elide had Lorcan between her legs and lost herself in the steady, deep pressure of how he thrust into her. Nails running up and down Lorcan’s back, not bothering for gentle, Elide finally came and she didn’t think at all. When Lorcan came, shuddering, hips jerking, Elide cradled him close, chest to chest, heart beat against heart beat.

This. This is what no one else could understand. She loved him. She held him close. She held on.


	2. Interstice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our idiots are back and better than ever! Will they figure their shit out this chapter? Oh god no, but it's fun to watch them fail.

_The direction of escape is towards freedom. So what is 'escapism' an accusation of?_

_\- Ursula K. Le Guin_

Exactly two people on earth got to see Manon Blackbeak like this. Elide counted herself among them. Oh we few, we happy few …

“Get up Blackbeak!” She shouted, viciously chipper. Kicking the door to Manon’s apartment closed, Elide tucked the necklace chain that held her key back beneath her shirt and dumped a box of donuts on the kitchen counter. “Food!”

From the bedroom, Elide heard something that sounded suspiciously like a grumble. And something else that sounded almost exactly like a phone hitting the floor.

Approximately one minute later, Manon stumbled out, hair a complete fucking mess, wearing cat pajama pants from college and near-translucent old tee shirt – _don’t look down, don’t you dare look down, eyes on the face_.

Slumping onto the couch in her very open concept, very modern apartment, Manon tossed one arm over her eyes and groaned, “It’s 9 am, El. On a Saturday. What the fuck.”

“I brought donuts.”

That arm shifted up a fraction of an inch. “The shitty ones?”

“Like I'd buy any other kind. And coffee, the good stuff.”

“Oh thank fuck.” Manon then fell off the couch. She took her sweet time getting back up. Hopping onto the kitchen counter and starting on her coffee, Elide watched this all play out, deeply amused. She used to get to witness the production of ‘Manon Blackbeak Returns to the Land of Living’ every morning in college, but, you know. Rooming with Manon had been its own unique form of masochism.

Better like this.

Abraxos, Manon’s old wolf hound, wandered over to Elide and snuffled at her leg, gunning for a treat. Or two. Or three. And Elide might have slipped him one (or two, or three). What Manon didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. “Um. I will eat your donuts,” Elide eventually said, mostly sounding like she wasn’t laughing.

“Don’t you dare.” A middle finger appeared, deus ex machina, over the top of the couch.

“Cute.”

“El. _It’s 9 am_. I got to bed at 4 am.”

“It’s not my fault you have a shit sleep schedule.”

“I was _working_. Running Miami’s nightlife means I actually have to run Miami’s nightlife.”

“Wait, let me get out my really tiny violin and play it for you.”

“You suck ass.”

“Bit early for that kind of talk.”

Manon fell silent and Elide grinned. Elide: 1. Manon: 0.

Eventually, the Queen of Miami herself deigned to bless Elide with her presence. Manon started in on a powered donut with vicious intensity. Caught in the bright daylight of 9 am light, kind of a disaster, powered sugar everywhere – yeah only two people in the world got to see Manon Blackbeak like this and Asterin had better shit to do.

After Manon downed half her coffee and laid her head on the cool marble of the kitchen countertop, she managed to say, “Why?”

“Aelin and Rowan’s wedding.”

“ _Fuck_.”

Patting Manon’s shoulder sympathetically, Elide bit back a smile.

“Is that tonight?” Manon grumbled.

“Four days in paradise – we fly out at one. Bachelorette party tomorrow, wedding festivities to follow.”

“Shoot me now.”

“Where would you like the bullet?” Elide asked sweetly. “Because I’m a damned good shot, I could hit you anywhere.”

“El?”

“Mhmm.”

“Shut up.”

“Harsh Blackbeak. I brought you donuts.”

“You woke me up at the ass crack of dawn. How did you know that I wouldn’t have … company.”

“I asked Asterin.” Elide shrugged, because that didn’t knife her. _Company_. Because she was over this. Over everything. Over Manon.

“Asterin wouldn’t know.”

“Asterin knows everything.”

Silence on the Western Front. Elide: 2. Manon: 0.

“Fine.” Manon sat up and shoved the stray hair out of her face, which _definitely_ improved the tangled mess spilling over her shoulders. “I need to shower.” Scratching Abraxos’ head before grabbing her coffee, Manon drank like a dying woman as she walked towards the bathroom.

Manon left the door open and, over the sound of rushing water, she called out, “So who the hell else is coming?”

“You, me, Asterin – ” Elide started listing names, ticking them off on her fingers and determinedly not moving from the kitchen. Definitely not after she heard the shower door slide open, then shut.

“El! I’m taking a shower, not murdering kittens. Get in here, I can’t hear a fucking thing you’re saying.”

Okay. Great. Lovely. Elide slid off the counter, clutching her coffee like a lifeline. Whatever. Pray for me Abraxos (he just thumped his tail, adorable and very unhelpful). Edging into the bathroom, Elide carefully sat with her back against the tile wall so that she couldn’t actually see Manon. Just a shadow flickering in the corner of her eye.

Let’s try this again.

“Um.” Elide took a sip of coffee, attempting to marshal her thoughts. “You. Me. Asterin. Petrah. Aedoin. Dorian. Sorcha. Nehemia. Lysandra. Rowan and Aelin – obviously.”

“Obviously.” Manon parroted back at her drily. “Wait, why the hell is Asterin coming?”

“Jesus, Blackbeak, don’t you ever speak to your cousin?”

“Yes. El. And we spend _all_ our time talking about Aelin Galathynius.”

“Somebody is a grump.”

“ _Somebody_ is avoiding the question.”

“Umm, have you forgotten that Asterin and Rowan are friends? Remember – Model UN, high school, day trip to Orlando, rogue clown, apparently a bonding experience that can’t be unbonded?”

“I’ve been trying to forget,” Manon muttered. “Anything else you care to mention?”

“Hey, I’m trying here. At least I didn’t have to peel myself off the floor this morning.”

Thrumming water filled their silence. Elide: 3. Manon: 0.

In that quiet, Elide tipped her head back and let the heat from Manon’s shower pour over her. She breathed in the spicy, spearmint scent of her shampoo and breathed out something that felt curiously like agony if you looked too closely. She knew that smell like she knew her own skin. Elide closed her eyes.

It’s better like this. Isn’t it? Nobody gets hurt.

“Salvaterre?” Manon’s voice jolted Elide from reverie.

“Yeah.” Elide replied softly. “Lorcan’s coming.”

The water shut off. Quiet.

Scrambling to her feet, Elide said, “I’m grabbing another donut. I know you haven’t packed yet – do it fast. We need to leave for the airport soon.” Anything to break that quiet.

Twenty-three minutes later, Manon walked out of her bedroom, suitcase in hand, backpack slung over one shoulder, murder in her eyes.

“Remind me why the fuck I’m doing this again?”

“Because your grandmother will actually kill you if you don’t?”

“Right. Anything to keep us in the Galathyniuses good graces. I swear Matron would tell me to fuck Aelin if she thought it would get us more money.” Dumping her backpack on the floor, Manon quickly braided her damp hair. White t-shirt so thin Elide could clearly see the outline of a black lace bra. Tight jeans. Combat boots. _Fuck_.

“Well thank god for all involved that Aelin’s straight.”

“Thank fuck for me, you mean. I can’t stand her.”

“You and Aelin have such a cute love-hate relationship.” Elide said sweetly, using the exact tone of voice that drove Manon up a wall.

“I do _not_ love her. No love, Lochan. No. Love.”

“Me think she doth protest too much.” Elide shot back, really fucking enjoying herself. It was just … so easy to needle Manon about her rivalry with Aelin.

Whistling for Abraxos, Manon muttered, “Why does it have to be Galathynius’ parents who are investors in our company? Hades wasn’t open for business?”

“Main investors.” Elide clarified, real helpful like. She may or may not have been grinning. “Besides, Rhoe and Evalin adore you. They think you’re quote ‘a very sharp young lady.’ Don’t worry, Aelin pretends to vomit every time they say that. At least, I think she’s pretending …”

“They fucking better.” Manon spoke softly, her amber eyes burning through the expanse of the apartment’s glass windows, to the place where the ocean and horizon blurred into one. “Because one day, my grandmother’s empire is going to be mine. That fucking bitch. I’m going to take everything from her. I’m going to burn her kingdom down.”

Coming to stand beside Manon, Elide responded quietly, “Pace yourself. Strike when you know she’ll bleed.”

Nodding, Manon took one long breath in, one long breath out. “Let’s go. I’ll never hear the end of it if we’re late.”

They managed to drop Abraxos off with Sorrel, the only cousin Manon trusted not to inadvertently kill her dog, and the drive to the airport was uneventful, if you looked at it through the lens of no one actually dying. From another angle, it was a crash course on how to break most of the traffic laws in the United States.

“Sweet fuck,” Elide murmured when the car came to a stop. “Manon. This isn’t Grand Theft Auto. If we die, we like, actually die.”

“Where’s your sense of adventure?” Manon grinned at her, wicked and bright, as Elide finally cracked her eyelids open.

“Somewhere back at 70 miles an hour.”

“Driving in Florida is a contact sport. But you can get behind the wheel next time if you want.”

“No. Thank you. All good.”

Elide: 3. Manon: 1.

Damn it.

Tossing her car keys to the valet, Manon started walking into the hanger at the private airfield. Elide followed, rolling her eyes. Because the Galathyniuses had money, but this flashy display of wealth? All. Fucking. Rowan.

“So where is Salvaterre?” Manon asked like she didn’t care about the answer.

Liar.

Sighing through her nose, Elide humored the question. “Team thing this morning. I don’t know. Hockey shit.”

“Lucky me.” Manon muttered, getting an elbow to her ribs for the trouble. In retaliation, Manon grabbed Elide around the waist and tickled her mercilessly.

“Manon!” Elide gasped, breathlessly laughing, “Okay, I surrender, uncle, uncle!”

And right goddamned then, Lorcan walked in. What impeccable timing. As he sauntered over, Manon slowly let go of Elide’s waist, and maybe it was wishful thinking, but Elide felt Manon’s fingers linger for a moment. Just a breath. Holding on. At the far end of the hanger, their friends turned to subtly watch the shitshow go down. Fucking fantastic. Stepping away from Manon, Elide cleared her throat and shoved stray hair out of her face. “Hey.”

“Hi babe.” Lorcan responded, his eyes on Manon. “What’s up?”

“Manon’s just giving me shit because I gave her shit first. Come on, let’s go.” Grabbing Lorcan’s hand, Elide pulled him away, shooting Manon a grimace that tried for a smile. _Sorry_ , she mouthed.

Manon stood stock-still, just for a moment, just for a breath, eyes unreadable in the shadows. Then, flicking her braid over one shoulder, she stalked over to where Asterin and Petrah were chatting with Rowan. Okay, good, this is fine. It’s fine.

When Lorcan leaned in to kiss Elide, she didn’t step back, but her cheeks flushed for a reason that had nothing to do with his tongue’s current position in her mouth. It wasn’t exactly a secret that no one here, with the notable exception of Rowan, liked Lorcan. And Rowan kinda had to, being, you know, Lorcan’s teammate. Everyone else’s feelings towards Lorcan ran the gamut from _annoyance_ to _active dislike_ (thanks Manon and Aelin). So, yeah. Getting not-so-subtly tongue fucked by Lorcan in front of them all in the middle of the afternoon was … awkward.

Pulling back, Elide quickly tugged her (getting ridiculously) long brown hair into a ponytail. “Um, should we …” She gestured weakly towards where everyone else stood, watching them without watching them. Great. Lovely. This will be fun.

“Sure babe.” Lorcan grinned down at her, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her close to his side. Elide relaxed into the touch. She would enjoy Aelin’s wedding. She was going to have some goddamned fun. Heaven help her, hell try to stop her.

“Aelin!” Darting forward, Elide pulled her sister into the tightest hug. Well, _sister_. No shared blood, but bound by the things that ran deeper. The life that couldn’t be unlived. The parents who raised Elide when her own family fell to the dogs. Aelin was her sister in the only ways that mattered.

“Ellie!” Aelin hugged her back just as tightly, pressing a kiss to her temple. “God, I haven’t seen you in weeks. Vet clinic keeping you busy?”

“You would not believe how many chihuahuas there are in Miami,” Elide responded, laughing.

“That statement is a hundred percent accurate. You know, I’m thinking about getting one,” Aelin said, swinging an arm over Elide’s shoulders and grinning at horrified expression slowly crawling across her face. “Kidding, I’m kidding.”

“You better be.”

“Untwist those panties, Ellie, and get ready to fucking party.”

“I’m more fun than you, so this shouldn’t be a problem,” Elide shot back, hip checking Aelin and smiling. She didn’t miss how Aelin stuck her tongue out in retaliation, and she didn’t miss the way Aelin subtly maneuvered them away from Lorcan. Remember, Elide. This wedding is going to be fun. It’s going to be a vacation. She would enjoy herself if it killed her.

It just might.

Then the next ten minutes became a wash of _hellos!_ and _how are yous?_ and _it’s been way too longs!_ Walking onto the private jet (again, Rowan’s idea, but just watch and see if Aelin complained), Elide chose the seat next to Lorcan, gripping his hand and smiling. He smiled back, and that did nothing to hide the fact that his ( _cough cough_ spray-tanned) skin had gone a little pale. Lorcan would die before admitting it, but he was scared of flying. Elide only found out because he once spent an entire flight from Miami to San Diego throwing up. In case you’re wondering, that’s a long flight and a lot of puke.

The experience really cemented their relationship. It was that or run screaming for the hills, and Elide Lochan had never been a coward.

Manon walked straight past them, slumping into a seat across from Asterin before pulling out her phone.

“Lovely.” Lorcan muttered to Elide, “You think she’d have the manners to say hi.”

Bristling a bit at his tone and a bit more at the words, Elide took a deep breath. No fighting. Not again. Not this trip. Not when they were here to, in Aelin’s words, _fucking part_ y. So let’s keep the goddamned peace. “You know Manon. She isn’t conversant on the weekends.”

Lorcan snorted, sounding seriously unimpressed.

Take another breath Elide, that’s it. Take another long breath in.

That got a bit easier when Manon glanced up and flashed her a smile, sunlight across water, firefly flickering. Elide smiled back, waving her fingertips. Leaning back into the seat, Elide closed her eyes, the smile not quite faded from her lips. See. This would be fun.

The two-hour flight to Turks and Caicos was over before it really started, much to Aelin’s disappointment. They barely made it through three bottles of champagne (oh! the horror). Downing the rest of her glass, Elide stood, stretched, and assumed her hand would regain feeling at some point. Lorcan really hated flying, and he had a _really_ tight grip.

In the ride to the hotel, Elide ignored offers of more champagne from Aelin Galathynius, aka one wild-ass bride-to-be. To absolutely no one’s surprise, the party bus was Aelin’s idea. Rolling her eyes at her dearly beloved and deeply strange sister, Elide turned to the window and let the azure island beauty pour through her. As a very little girl, back when memory was just a watercolor thing, Elide’s mother would bring her down the ocean and her father would dance with her in the waves.

Now – Elide swallowed back the tears, everything that hurt. Now – she was happy to be here. She missed the sea. Even when she stood knee deep in the waters. She missed her mum and dad. She ached for them, always.

“You good?” Lorcan nudged her shoulder, giving her a half smile.

“Yeah. All good.” Elide leaned up to kiss his check, breathing in the heady scent of his cologne, cedar and wood smoke. “Just happy to be here.”

“Me too, babe.” Lorcan returned the favor, kissing her and deliberately rubbing his five o’clock shadow against her cheek. Laughing, Elide shoved him away before letting herself get reeled in for another kiss, deep and slow.

That lasted all of five seconds before Aelin threw a champagne cork at Lorcan’s head, saying, “Oy! Hands off my sis! There are some things I never need to see, and that’s a lot of them.”

“For once I agree with Galathynius,” Manon drawled. “Spare our eyes.”

“Oh, your eyes have seen much worse Blackbeak.” Elide shot back, turning to mock-glare at Manon.

“Debatable.”

“Ugh,” Aelin groaned. “Everyone please stop talking and please start drinking.” She shoved an entire champagne bottle into Elide’s hands. “Drink, drink.” So Elide drank, drank.

And the booze definitely didn’t go to her head.

Time to swim, swim. An hour or two later (who really, truly cared) Elide took another sip of Mai Tai and stared thoughtfully into her suitcase. Who knew where the Mai Tai had come from? Elide certainly didn’t. But it was in her hands, and, waste not want not, she drank it.

Maureen, Elide’s work wife at the vet clinic and wing-woman extraordinaire, had helped her choose three swimsuits for the trip. But now … Elide was already a lot of booze into the day and decisions were hard. With Lorcan in the shower (and god only knew he would be there for at least another half hour, going through his skin care routine), Elide really needed to seek out another opinion.

Where the fuck was Manon?

In her room, it turned out, also unpacking. But Manon seemed significantly more sober and a hell of a lot more put together than Elide at the moment. Or Elide ever, really. It wasn’t fair. Elide had been watching Manon Blackbeak her entire life, and it just wasn’t fucking fair, the uncanny grace with which the other woman lived.

“Hey.” Manon glanced over at her. “What’s up?”

In lieu of answering, Elide collapsed onto her bed. “Ugh.”

“Cute – move over.”

“Nah.”

“Fine then.” Manon said, dumping clothes from her suitcase directly onto Elide.

“Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

“You aren’t sharing a room with Asterin?” Elide asked, half sitting up and shoving the tangle of Manon’s bras to one side.

“Are you drunk?” Manon waved a hand in front of Elide’s face. “Petrah’s here, remember? For some ungodly reason, Galathynius likes her.”

“Oh come on, you love Petrah. And she and Asterin aren’t that bad.” Elide flopped back onto the bed, watching the ceiling fan’s lazy rotation. “They’re like, couple goals.” Spin, spin. Spin, spin. She really was very comfortable.

“In public, sure. In private? I want to make it through the next five days without needing to bleach my eyeballs.”

“Mhmm, you’re no fun.”

“How many Mai Tais in are you? Why are you even drinking Mai Tais?”

“Shut up Blackbeak.”

Elide started drifting off to the sound of Manon laughing at her, completely forgetting about why she showed up in the first place, when Manon’s sudden “Fuck!” jolted her awake.

“Huh – what?”

“Damn it!” Manon dumped some more clothes onto Elide. “I forgot my vibrator. This, _this_ , is why I don’t try to pack in 20 minutes.”

“It’s only four days. I’m sure you’ll survive.” Elide kept her eyes closed, trying to not envision anything behind them. Nothing at all.

Over this. Over everything. Over Manon.

“Oh it’s been a lot longer than five days, Lochan.” Manon muttered. “ _Fucking_ weeks.”

“What about … what’s her name? Jessica? Jennifer?”

“Jacinta. And no, we didn’t go any further than those staged paparazzi photos. My grandmother wanted me seen out with her, good publicity apparently.” Manon said bitterly.

“Bitch.”

“Damn right.” Manon fist bumped Elide. “Now what the fuck am I going to do?”

“Ummm. Do I actually need to answer that or …?”

Chuckling, Manon slammed the lid of her suitcase shut. “I think I can figure out the mechanics for myself. But thanks for the offer.”

“No problem.” Elide responded weakly.

“Now as much fun as this conversation has been, what the hell are you doing here?”

“Swimsuit. Opinion. Help.”

“Wear one?” Manon quirked an eyebrow, clearly amused.

“Not helpful.” Elide sat up and proceeded to start drinking again.

Rolling her eyes, Manon gave in. She always gave in for Elide. “Okay, show me the options.”

“Ugh thanks love, you’re saving my actual life.” Elide didn’t mean to use that old endearment, the one she’d learned as a child, _love_ , her mother’s British accent curling softly around the sound. Elide’s word for Manon before the world had gotten so fucking complicated, _love_ , but my god day drinking was a dangerous game to play.

Manon acted like she didn’t notice. Maybe she hadn’t.

Moving on.

Pushing Manon’s shit to one side, Elide laid out the swimsuits and stepped back, awaiting judgement day. She drank more – this will solve everything.

For a long, long moment, Manon stared down, immobile, and the air went sharp. Reaching out, Manon trailed a careful finger down the edge of a bikini top. “This one,” she finally breathed out.

“You sure?” Elide … liked that one. But it also slightly terrified her. It had mostly almost entirely been Maureen’s bad idea, too little fabric and too many straps, impractical and ridiculous and kinda fucking glorious.

“Yeah.” Manon stepped back, exhaled. “I mean, the idea is to break Salvaterre’s brain right? This will do it.”

“Okay. Great.” Elide gathered the swimsuits off Manon’s bed, suddenly unsure when she had forgotten to breathe. “Cool. You’re coming right?”

“Swimming?” Manon asked, like she really wasn’t paying attention. “Yeah, sure.”

“Okay, see you there.” Elide turned to leave. Elide paused at the doorway. And Elide turned back – there stood Manon, staring across the room, out the window, to the place where the ocean burned a line against the horizon.

Don’t ask Elide why she hesitated there.

And don’t ask her why she left. Don’t ask. Don’t ask.

Lorcan, Elide was pleased to note, liked the swimsuit. He really liked the swimsuit. So much, in fact, that they got down and dirty and showed up 45 minutes late to the beach party. Elide vowed to make Dorian and Rowan pay for their wolf whistles, right after she stopped blushing. So next year maybe?

“Shut up!” Lorcan yelled, grinning, clearly not meaning a single word. Planting a massive kiss on Elide’s cheek, he bounded over to join the hockey player bro fest. Beers and football and … boobs? Elide honestly couldn’t give less of a fuck about what dudes discussed when they duded out together.

Grabbing a bottle of vodka, as in the straight up bottle, Elide wandered over to where Alein, Nehemia, and Lysandra sat and tried to ignore the raucous sounds coming from tailgate central, Turks and Caicos edition.

“’Sup Ellie.” Aelin patted an empty section of towel beside her and Elide gratefully flopped down.

Grinning at Elide, Lysandra asked, “Having a good day?”

“Lys!” Elide groaned, covering her still blushing face with both hands.

“Oh come on! You very much so have the _I just had a great fuck_ face. Besides, and no offense, Lorcan is … good god, I’d climb that man like a fucking tree.”

“None taken. Lorcan is very …” Elide also trailed off, staring at the way his muscles rippled under his skin and how the tropical sunlight burnished his body to bronze. There were some definite advantages to dating a professional hockey player. “Yeah.”

“Eww guys.” Aelin stole the vodka bottle before Elide could take so much as a sip. “Get a real drink, hon. Here – have this.” She shoved another Mai Tai into Elide’s hands. Well, alrighty then. Who am I am to disagree?

“What are we talking about?” Manon came over, sitting on the beach towel beside Nehemia. Aviators, bikini top, jean shorts, silvery blond hair flicking loose in the Caribbean breeze – _Jesus_ , Manon. She had, and this was a totally objective opinion, great breasts. Ask anyone. Okay, maybe don’t ask Elide.

 _Damn it_. Elide choked a bit on her drink. It was just the sudden rush of booze. Just booze.

“Elide’s _just been fucked_ face. And Lorcan’s muscles.”

“ _Lys!_ ” Elide hissed, her face now rapidly approaching the same color scheme as an overripe tomato. “Shut the fuck up.”

“Whatever you say.” Lysandra grinned and shrugged, her goal clearly accomplished.

Manon didn’t say anything at all. Elide tried not to think about that. She did grab the vodka bottle from Aelin and drink straight from it. Elide tried not to think about that either.

Deep breathing.

Nehemia, obviously deciding that whatever game Lysandra was playing looked like too fun not to join, chimed in and asked, “But is he good in bed? No, _not_ Rowan, Aelin, you text me about that like daily. Lorcan. Is Lorcan good in bed?”

Not for the first time in her life, Elide prayed for immediate end to the actual world. “Um.” She cleared her throat and tried again, “Uh.” Great start. “Well.”

Rolling her eyes, Nehemia said, “Jesus Christ, Elide, spit it out!”

It took a solid three minutes for everyone to stop laughing at that. Lysandra still hiccupped every few seconds. Aelin looked like she wanted to bury her head in the sand and stay there, possibly forever. And Manon, well Manon and the vodka bottle were becoming very good friends.

“Okay.” Nehemia tried to swallow a laugh and it only partially worked. “But the question stands. And I feel like by not answering it, you’re kinda answering it, you know?”

Wrapping her arms around Elide’s waist, Aelin said, “No Ellie, don’t answer, ever. You’re my baby sis. You’re permanently ten in my head. Don’t scar me for life, I beg you!”

“You’re only six months older than me, idiot.” Elide pressed a kiss into Aelin’s hair. “Better plug your ears.”

She had no reason to avoid the question. And she had nobody to hide the truth from. Nobody. “Yeah, the sex is pretty fantastic.”

Lysandra whooped, punching a fist in the air, “I knew it! I knew there had to be a reason you stayed with him.”

“Cut that shit out.” Elide shot back, not pausing for a beat. Go down fighting, come out swinging. “Seriously. I know none of you like him,” she fixed particularly fierce glares on Manon and Aelin, “but I do. So fucking deal with it.”

The tension stretched between the three of them, thinner and thinner, until Aelin bit the goddamned bullet. “Fine. But give me three jokes between now and the wedding. Just three. And then – ” she mimed locking her lips shut.

“Deal.” Elide responded, but her eyes were on Manon as she said it. No special dispensation for you. Manon seemed to get the message, because she nodded, just the faintest tilt of her head.

So be it. So let it be.

The vodka bottle passed from Manon, to Nehemia, back to her.

“I’m going swimming.” Elide brushed sand off all the annoying places sand tends to go. “If I drown, it’s someone else’s fault.” Not looking back, Elide slipped into the shallows of soft water, warm and sweet. Eyes open, blue into blue into blue, it felt like falling up, like rising.


	3. Ricochet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man, this angst. You know that phrase 'things have to get worse before they get better'? We're definitely in the 'things getting worse' stage. #sorrynotsorry

_Because survival is insufficient_

_\- Voyager_

“When the fuck are you going to do something about this?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Manon replied evenly, not turning to look at her cousin. Asterin didn’t seem too bothered by this state of affairs. She leaned onto the balcony railing next to Manon, the two women watching how the lights from the bar reflected across indigo waters. Far off at sea, a boat set off fireworks and they exploded into a million supernovas against the ink sky. Behind them, Aelin and Co. drank and danced the night away in the pre-party to the bachelorette party.

Between them breathed a quiet. A still, deep quiet.

“Bullshit.” Asterin pulled out her vape pen and took a deep drag. “Oh, don’t give me that look. Petrah’s too drunk to notice and I’m too drunk to care.”

“Lovely.” Manon said, hoping that would be the end of the conversation. Don't you know, a wish is fool’s gold. 

Blowing out a thin stream of smoke, Asterin replied, “Elide. I’m talking about Elide.”

“That’s nice.”

“Specifically,” and now Asterin’s voice had a bite, “the fact that you’re in love with her.”

“Fuck off.”

“That’s not a no, _Manon_.”

“Try this: go to hell.”

“Still not a no.”

“ _Asterin_.” Manon snapped, on the thin edge of her temper fraying past breaking. “Back. Off.”

“No, I don’t think I will.” Asterin thoughtfully took another drag on her vape. “Because I’m done watching you drive yourself insane. Do you think I haven’t noticed? All these years. You’ve been pining after Elide since we were teenagers. You sleep with all these women that you don’t give a fuck about, and you watch her and you love her and you don’t do a goddamned thing about it.”

Manon laid her head on her arms for just a moment, unable to … she just couldn’t … “Are you done?”

“Yeah. I think that about sums your heartbreak up.”

“Good. Then fuck off.”

“God, you can be such a bitch sometimes.” Asterin murmured. “Now please cut the shit.”

“What do you want me to say?” Pushing herself upright, Manon shoved a hand through her hair. “What answer in particular are you looking for?”

“The truth. I want to hear you say the truth.”

“ _It doesn’t matter_.” Manon spat out, temper finally fraying clean through, her hands shaking. “The truth doesn’t fucking matter.”

“That you love her.” Asterin replied evenly.

“ _Stop_.”

“Why, M? Give me one good reason why.” And now some of Asterin’s frustration leaked through in the cut of her voice, in the tense set of her jaw.

“Because she chose him!” Manon threw an arm in the direction of the bar and then bit down on her tongue, bit down on the temper clawing its way out through her voice. Quiet, contained, shaking, Manon finally said, “because she keeps choosing him. Over and over and over. I see the way she looks at me, sometimes, and I – ” her eyes drifted shut, “I wonder. If maybe she thinks about me the way I think about her. But then she keeps choosing him.

So whether or not I love her doesn’t matter.”

“But do you?” Asterin asked, quiet, contained, a little heartbroken.

Manon looked up into her face. My cousin, my sister, my other half. The brightest thing I’ve ever seen on this earth. The first person I ever loved wholly and completely. “Yes. Always.”

The truth, at last.

Turning back to face the black waters, Manon bowed her head. She just … she just couldn’t … not under the weight of it all. Elide Lochan, has there ever been a day when I didn’t love you? I don’t remember it, and lord save me, I wouldn’t want to. Coming to stand beside Manon, Asterin pressed their shoulders together. “Are you ever going to tell her?”

Manon laughed, but the sound wasn’t funny at all. “And lose her forever? I’d rather put a bullet through me.”

“You might be surprised.” Asterin replied softly.

“At what cost?” The temper drained out of Manon and in its wake it left … a beach after the tide pulls away, a wasteland stripped of everything that once made it whole. “It’s better like this. I get a part of her like this.” And her voice cracked on those last words. And Asterin just stayed by her side, holding close.

Pressing knuckles to her forehead – she didn’t crack, _she never cracked_ , but my god Elide – Manon said quietly, “I didn’t know that she was bi, in high school. El was the only girl I wanted to think about, but it didn’t … I couldn’t have her. And that was okay, because she lit up my goddamned life.

Then in college, she started dating Elizabeth and – _goddamned_ it. I had tried out sleeping around and it seemed easier to keep doing that than to think about anything. El chose someone else. But she was still there, lighting up my life. It felt like ... enough. And we graduate and shit, Asterin, I’m dating – ” but Manon couldn’t finish that sentence. The memories sat on the back on her tongue, sharp, like the taste of bitter almonds.

“Iskra.” Asterin breathed the name, shouldering what Manon couldn’t say aloud.

“ _Iskra,_ ” Manon eventually replied. “That nightmare. I lost a year to that nightmare. I lost – _fuck_.” Pausing, Manon tried to take a deep breath in. It didn’t work, and the tension cascaded down through her jaw, her spine, her hands. “You don’t know this. Nobody knows this. But the day I ended it with Iskra, I flew halfway across the world. I just wanted to get home. To Miami. 

I just … I wanted to see her. El was single and I was finally free. I was going to ask her to be my girlfriend. I got so close. It wasn’t enough.

I remember – I ran up the steps to her apartment and I knocked on that fucking door and when she opened it, there was this second where it felt like the whole world lit up from the inside out. Just one second. I got so close.

Because the first thing she said was _Manon, you’re home!_ and the second thing she said … it was _Lorcan! Manon’s here. You remember Lorcan, yeah? We just started dating._

I remember how she laughed. I remember how she hugged me. I remember sitting there in her shit apartment across from her new boyfriend. I remember feeling like a light went out. And I remember every single day of these past three years. So don’t you dare give me shit about loving her.”

Manon fell silent and the ocean water swirled beneath them, around them, carry away what I cannot carry anymore.

Please.

Tangling their hands together, Asterin pressed a soft kiss against Manon’s temple. “That sounds lonely.”

“Yeah.”

“M? Do you even know what you want anymore?”

_No. Nothing. Her_. Manon closed her eyes. Prayer and benediction and offering. “I can’t leave her. I’ve tried, but I can’t. I don’t want to. She’s got me until the day I die, and then I’d like to see the afterlife try and stop me.” Breathing in the scent of her cousin’s perfume, Manon exhaled, inhaled, tried to let this ground her down. “I’m hers.” Forever and ever amen.

+

Inside, Elide was having the time of her fucking life. Booze and her girls and … god it felt so good to cut fucking loose. It turns out that with a little boost from Lysandra and a lot of drunken cheering from her friends, Elide was pretty damn good at the stripper pole. Her trashed ankle could suck it.

“You’re a great teacher Lys!” Elide shouted, currently and quite happily upside down.

“Never been prouder!” Lysandra gave her two thumbs up, looking like a mother bird watching a chick take first flight.

“You know, Rowan wants us to put one of these in the bedroom,” Aelin said, pointing a neon pink dick straw in Elide’s direction. “I’m not opposed to it. As long as my mother never finds out. Like, ever.”

“Cool story.” Elide nodded, starting to realize that she was, in so many words, very stuck. And then like an apparition out of her wildest dreams, there stood Manon Blackbeak, face-to-fucking-face. Or, well, what do you call it when the woman who’s your insanity is right there, lips level to your own, smiling, while you’re upside down on a stripper pole?

Any good words for that?

“Hi.” Elide breathed out. It’ll have to do.

“Stuck?”

“Very much so.”

“Want some help?”

“You angel.”

“Don’t say that too loudly, El. I’m fond of my reputation.”

“We all know you’re a bitch, Manon.”

“Good.” Manon leaned in closer, just inches apart. Just a breath away. “Don’t ever forget it.”

“Okay.” Elide’s eyes fixated on Manon’s lips, her skin, her jawline. It was just the booze, the blood rushing to her head, the fucking bachelorette party. This insanity had nothing to do with Elide – it would pass, because she was over it.

Over this. Over Manon.

She had to be.

She was – Manon reached out, her strong arms encircling Elide’s body. “Easy there,” Manon murmured, “I’ve got you.”

_I know_.

Sinking into Manon’s touch, Elide let the other woman cradle her like something out a princess movie that Disney was too scared to make. When her feet finally touched ground, Elide took in a breath. “Thanks.” Except she hadn’t dropped her arms from Manon’s shoulders yet. She should do that. Like soon. Like now.

Danger, Will Robinson, danger.

Elide stepped back. There. See. It was easy ( _lies_ ).

“Oy!” Aelin yelled, “Idiots one and two, get over here. We’re playing pin the dick on the hockey player. It’s like pin the tail on the donkey, but instead of a tail – ”

“Yes, thank you Aelin!” Elide yelled back, blushing. Again. She really had to get that under control. “Come on Blackbeak, you’re suffering with me.”

“Always.”


	4. Whiteout

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there goes the rating! Buckle up dearest readers, the porn with plot train is (slowly) leaving the station.

_We once kneeled before kings and queens and alters; we kneel to ask someone to marry. We kneel to get down to a child’s level; we kneel to beg. Kneeling is a sign of reverence, submissiveness, deference – and sometimes mourning and vulnerability. To kneel is to humble oneself quietly before another, to honor them._

_\- Unknown_

_God_ , this massage. Aelin was a genius, a bloody, fucking genius. Elide had never quite understood the appeal of letting a stranger put their hands on her skin, but now, well … she had been wrong. Very wrong. Totally wrong. Call her a convert.

What a bachelorette party this had been. Elide liked her sister’s style – a day of alcohol and sunshine and no men whatsoever. Ah, the peace. Sighing softly, Elide soaked in the afternoon breeze and let every weight dragging her down go. Just for a minute. She pretended like the weight had never been there at all.

Turning her head to the side, Elide looked at the similarly relaxed face of Manon Blackbeak. The last time she had seen Manon this unwound, the other woman had been high as a kite off MDA (don’t ask – long Friday, longer Friday night, a Viking beer festival, and some really strange life choices).

“How the hell…” Elide’s sentence temporarily drifted off into a sigh as the masseuse worked a particularly tough knot by her spine. “Remind me again how the hell you convinced Matron to let you come to this? We’re actually _enjoying_ ourselves.”

“Convince her?” Manon snorted, not bothering to open her eyes. “Reminder that she ordered me to. I just bitched back about it to keep up appearances.”

“Poor baby Manon,” Elide teased.

“Oh, go fuck yourself.”

“Not in public, babe.”

Manon laughed, made a very lewd gesture, and that was the end of that conversation. It wasn’t until after the group moved to the steam room that Elide payed the price for getting quite so goddamned relaxed. She couldn’t even point the finger at booze – no, this time, Elide had nobody to blame but herself.

Shit will now, quite metaphorically, hit the fan.

She’d let her guard down on this island, that was the crux of the issue. Forgotten why it was a bad idea to open her goddamned mouth. Laying on one of the wooden benches in the steam room, Elide let her attention drift in and out of the conversation, warm and boneless and heading for fucking catastrophe.

Groaning, Lysandra said, “That massage was incredible. I swear it felt better than oral.”

“Mhmm,” Elide sighed. “I miss oral. It’s been years.” And she felt, actually _felt_ , every single head in the room whip around to look at her.

Oh shit.

Had she said that out loud? Judging from the deafening silence, yes. Yes she had. Fuck. No power on this earth, and damned few in the next, would get Elide to open her eyes right now.

“Elide?” Nehemia broke the catastrophic quiet, likely because everyone else still sat frozen in shock. Elide didn’t exactly look around to check. “When you say it’s been years since … do you mean oral _oral_? Like oral sex, or …?”

Dearly beloved, we gather here today to mourn the death of my dignity. Deep breath, “Yeah.” There, that should do it, no further questions.

Ha. Lies.

Nehemia, taking another hit for the team, asked what everyone was thinking: “Why?”

Refusing to sit up, refusing to move a bloody inch, Elide eventually replied, “Lorcan doesn’t like doing it, and I don’t mind.” Her tone of voice tried to clearly communicate: do. not. push. Unfortunately for Elide, no one fucking cared.

“Who doesn’t like giving oral?” That was Manon’s voice, dear god.

Aelin piped up, saying, “You know what Blackbeak, for once in our lives, I agree with you.”

“Thank you. Don’t let it happen again.”

“Fuck off.”

Lysandra, the traitor, interrupted this highly effective distraction to bring all the attention back onto Elide. “I think we’re missing the point here. No pun intended.” Cue collective grumbling. “Elide. Do you want him to do it?”

Sitting up and groaning, Elide dragged her hands through her hair. As she stared down at her knees – no way in hell would she risk meeting somebody’s eyes right now – Elide finally replied, “Look. Yeah, I like oral. No, Lorcan doesn’t like doing it. It isn’t a big deal, okay? Somebody else want to reveal a highly personal detail about their sex life that we can Dr. Freud to pieces?”

Aelin, a very, _very_ good sister, changed the topic entirely, “So! Dinner tonight – I hope you guys like curry? Actually, I don’t care. Because I love curry, so that’s what we’re eating.”

Elide took that opportunity to drop out of the conversation entirely, fingers mindlessly massaging her aching ankle, the old injury flaring up again. She didn’t even look up when Manon came to sit beside her. “Manon,” she sighed, already tired of the conversation they hadn’t even had.

But Manon headed her off. “Here El,” she said softly, “let me.” And her hands reached for Elide’s damaged ankle. “It’ll feel better if someone else does it.” Elide didn’t bother to argue, because one, Manon really was good at massaging out the pain. Two, anything would be preferable to revisiting the previous topic of discussion.

Letting her eyes slip shut, Elide sank into the sensation of hurt separating out from her body. “You okay?” Manon finally asked, her hands stilling.

“Yeah,” Elide breathed. “I’m fine.”

Silence.

“Manon. I said I’m fine.”

“Okay.” Manon stood up, her knuckles brushing against Elide’s cheek like a prayer. “I’ll see you at dinner.”

+

That night, Manon couldn’t sleep. Midnight passed, one a.m. slipped her by. She paced through her hotel room, out onto the balcony, elbows braced on the railing. A soft breeze, cool and sweet, drifted through her unbound hair.

_Yeah, I like oral. No, he doesn’t._

God damn it. Salvaterre had Elide, he _had_ her, and he didn’t even know how to touch her. Manon’s fingers twisted around the railing, tighter and tighter. If she had –

Manon got on her knees for no man and damn few women, but for Elide … my god for Elide she would kneel. Kiss a path up one thigh, then the other, watching through her eyelashes as Elide braced against the wall, arched under every touch, gasping, begging, _please_. And when pleasure danced right there on the thin line with agony, Manon would drag her tongue through Elide’s core and lick her wide open. Her hands tangling in Manon’s hair as she painted rough patterns over Elide’s – _damn it_.

Manon shoved herself away from the balcony, paced back into the room, paced right back out again.

She couldn’t sleep.

She couldn’t – fuck it. She’d take a shower and burn this restlessness right out of her. Turning the water too hot, Manon pretended like her hands weren’t shaking. Don’t you dare think about Elide, burn this out, but don’t you dare think about her. She’s not yours.

Stepping under the thundering water, Manon let it pound away every thought. As she leaned back against the cool tile wall, one hand drifted between her legs, carefully parting her folds. Water might not have been the most helpful in this situation, but she was so slick it didn’t matter. She didn’t care. Pressing against her fingers, Manon lost herself in a rough pattern over her clit – her fingers slipping over Elide’s clit, thrusting into the other woman until she gasped Manon’s name like a prayer.

No. _No_. Manon pressed her head back against the shower tiles, hand stilled, core aching.

Remember Alessandra, god fucking her into the mattress one night in Prague until she came again and again and again, until she laid Manon back and opened her with two fingers, three, four, and Manon forgot how to say any word in any language.

Remember the brush of Elide’s eyelashes over her cheeks, the smile that curved at the corner of her mouth, the silky brush of her thick, wavy hair. The scent of her soap, citrus and sunlight, whenever Manon drifted too close into her orbit.

Damn it.

Manon’s fingers moved faster over her clit, slipped inside her core and she bowed over with a gasp. This was how she would touch Elide, sweet and slow and picking up speed until the other woman’s body made the filthiest fucking sounds. Elide’s arms draped around her shoulders, mouth close enough for Manon to kiss deep and dirty, shaking, hips snapping again and again as she came, crying out –

_Manon_

That’s how.

Manon arched under her own touch, coming like a whiteout, everything lost but Elide’s name buried in the back of her tongue.

When her eyes flickered back open, she pretended like her heart wasn’t pounding and pounding, pounding and pounding. _God damn it_. Sinking to her knees, Manon bowed her head, body to earth. The ache remained. Even with the fine tremors of an orgasm still racing through her, the ached remained.


	5. Kerosene Wild

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow guys ... this chapter is both short and late. I wish I had a better excuse other than life is a bitch. 
> 
> Don't worry - I'm never going to abandon this story half-finished. I didn't write SEVENTY-EIGHT thousands words for it to languish like a Dickensian orphan on my computer's hard drive. 
> 
> Stay safe out there, y'all. Onward.

_I sing the body electric_

_\- Walt Whitman_

That night, Elide dreamed.

Burn down the house. Kerosene and the flame. Burn down the house.

Why could she taste fire on her tongue?

When had she ever forgotten?

Everything this everything this everything this kerosene wild.

Everywhere flames.

Blood on her boots. Blood on her jeans. Blood on her face.

Blood on her tongue

There’s blood on my tongue.

Burn down the house.

Fire.

Screaming and screaming and screaming. The howl. Vicious and wild. The howl. Screaming and screaming and screaming. Terror and elation and burn down the house. Kerosene and the flame.

 _Elide_.

Screaming and screaming.

And screaming.

_Elide._

At last.

Blood on her tongue. Iron and the dripping teeth. Drown the world in red and what emerges might come out clean.

Elide woke up, memories burning through her body. Everything. She remembered everything.

She had never wanted to.

+

That night, Elide stopped trying to sleep. She – she couldn’t get the taste of flame off her tongue. Leaving Lorcan to whatever dreams held him in peace and quiet, Elide slipped out of bed and wandered the 2 am world.

Following her feet, she found a balcony overlooking the sea. Quiet here – it was so quiet here. Elide reveled in it.

But she couldn’t get the taste of blood off her tongue.

Settling onto the stone railing, Elide let her feet dangle over the smooth water, those shifting patterns, that dull roar. A tension she forgot that she carried unwound from her spine. In its absence, the memories flooded in.

Too many night like this – god how many nights had she lived, just like this. Nightmares tearing through her body – her uncle, that house, those flames. The memories … Elide bowed her head beneath the weight of them. But nights like this didn’t used to end like _this_.

Elide didn’t lift her head.

Nights like this … how when she was seventeen, she’d stumble the two blocks to Asterin’s house, throwing rocks at Manon’s window until the other girl woke up and helped her crawl through the broken screen, until she curled tight in Manon’s bed and breathed in her scent, that mint and madness, until sleep came and the shaking stopped.

When she was nineteen and she’d wake up screaming, biting through her tongue to bite down the sound, and Manon would cross the Rubicon of their dorm room floor, wrapping her body around Elide’s until sleep came and the shaking stopped.

When she was twenty-three and Manon abandoned a date in the middle of dinner because Elide thought she saw her uncle Vernon, just _thought_ , and the panic wiped through her, annihilation. And Manon came and sat beside her on the bathroom floor in that old, shitty apartment and held her until the shaking stopped.

Nights like this … when they were teenagers and Asterin would text her, _hey heads up Tennessee is hanging out with Manon tonight._ So when the nightmares came, Elide would curl in her own bed, at least spared the sight of Manon curled around her high school girlfriend.

When they were in college and Manon would disappear on one-night stands, returning the next morning with a wink and a grin, cocky and brash and so fucking beautiful. And Elide understood, with utter certainty, that she loved Manon. And Elide knew, with every fiber and muscle and bone, that she had to burn that love clean out of her body. There was no surviving a heartbreak like this.

When she was 23 and 24 and 25 and 26 and 27 and now, and she couldn’t slice Manon out of her life, couldn’t make herself want to try, couldn’t bear the agony of that loss. Even as Manon brought woman after woman back to her home. Even as Manon looked at Elide, sometimes, in the darkling night, with wildfire in her eyes. Even as Manon turned – in the end she always turned – and took another woman’s hand in her own.

There is no surviving a heartbreak like that.

+

That morning, Elide fucked Lorcan hard. Climbed on top and took him deep and fast and rough. It nearly hurt and the pain felt like something burning clean. She didn’t want to think about anything. She wanted to whiteout.

Lorcan bucked into her, muscles shifting under her palms, jerking her body with every thrust.

 _Faster_ she hissed _harder, fuck it Lorcan harder_.

Grabbing the headboard, Elide rode them into oblivion, her skin damp with sweat and their bodies reeking of sex. She didn’t care that her core would be sore for hours, that her hips would be bruised by his grip for days – she ached for the thin edge of agony, she needed to lose her mind.

When Lorcan came inside her, he snapped over the edge and thrust into her hard, gasping her name over and over, _Elide … Elide_.

As their breathing slowed, Elide pulled herself off him and stumbled into the bathroom, turning the shower on as hot as it could go. There was no facing another human being in this state. Under the pounding water, Elide pressed her overheated forehead against the cool tile. She’d be feeling that particular fuck all day, her muscles trembling with the aftershocks. 

But an ache remained. Elide could still taste kerosene on her tongue and an ache remained.


	6. Godspeed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god you guys ... these idiots. this angst. 
> 
> ANGST I tell you, ANGST.

_Autumn knocks on the window. I pull back the sliding doors and let it in. Lights from the meat market flicker and car lights streak the gloom._

_Overhead the pulse of aeroplane wings replaces the stars. The flat is quiet. This is loneliness._

_\- Tin Man_

“Come on.” Lorcan tugged Elide’s hand, grinning at her mischievously.

“Come on what?” Elide said back, smiling up at him.

“A surprise, the kind you’ll actually like.” Plot twist: Elide hates surprises. But she was willing to suspend disbelief, just this once, just tonight, on a magical island in the midst of an indigo sea on the evening before her sister’s wedding.

“Well it better not be food, because the rehearsal dinner was really. fucking. good. Lorcan, I may never eat again.”

“Sure.” He rolled his eyes. “I’ll remind you of that when I find you eating my leftover curry at 2 a.m.”

“Okay, that was one time.”

“You’re right, the other ten times it was my leftover fried rice.”

“Not my fault that you just leave it in the fridge, unattended, for poor, hungry girlfriends to find.”

“Elide!” Lorcan tugged her hand more insistently. “Come on, off the bed, let’s go Ms. Lochan. Try for me, just for one night.” So she did, because Elide owed Lorcan, after all the times he’d tried for her. She could do this.

Following Lorcan’s lead, Elide wandered the streets of Grand Turk with him, hand in hand. A warm breeze ruffled through her hair, carrying the scent of the sea and the half-forgotten heat of the sun. She thought that she could live here forever, wandering in this amber-lit night.

Finally they came to a stop and Lorcan pulled Elide back against his chest, encompassing her wholly. “See. I told you that you’d like this surprise,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to her neck. And Elide did. She really freaking did. The bar they walked into was charming and warm, a whimsical thing that might have been washed ashore on the tide and never quite found it in its soul to leave. A back deck stretched out over the ocean, until she lost all sense of the place where the earth met the sea met the sky.

Elide leaned up to kiss Lorcan, words without words, _I love you_.

This is what they could never understand, her friends and her family and – this, they could never know how she felt, cupping the night like a firefly between her palms. Elide let Lorcan spin her around in a hug and laughed because she could.

“I’ll grab us drinks.” Lorcan leaned down to kiss her again because he could. “Sit anywhere you want.”

So she did, right at the edge of the deck, where the sea lost itself in the earth lost itself in the sky. Dangling her feet in soft, smooth water, Elide closed her eyes and prayed to a god she no longer believed in that she'd never forget this night.

Give me that. You owe me one thing. Give me this.

Lorcan slipped a beer into her hand and an arm around her shoulders. They curled into each other, like snails in their shells. They talked. About everything. About nothing. About childhood. About things they could no longer quite remember but never wanted to let go. About things seared into memory, the incomprehensible, the unforgettable. Elide nearly talked about the truth, her whole truth, the flame memories, but she was falling in love with tonight. She didn’t want to pour blood in the water.

Midnight came and went and it tasted like a melody. To the world I can no longer quite recall, hold onto me a little while longer.

Standing up, swaying a little, Elide patted Lorcan’s man bun and said, “I’m grabbing another drink. You want anything?”

“A beer. Any beer,” he said, kissing her hip bone through her summer dress.

“Menace,” she replied, smiling.

Sometimes, fate turns on very small wheels. A little action touches a little action and the whole world flips upside down.

For us, for Elide, it starts with a busy bartender and a room that’s half shadow.

Standing there, tapping her toes, humming an almost forgotten tune, Elide’s eyes wandered. In the bar’s amber light, the world shimmered like a silk screen. She saw faded pictures of long-gone people in long-lost places, wood that had drifted the wide world before ending up home, flags still curled from the whip of salt breeze. Elide saw … Manon.

Manon. Manon wearing a slip of a black silk dress, silvery hair spilling down her shoulders. Manon smiling, skin bathed in gold. Manon curling towards another woman, their hands tangling together.

Whiteout.

Elide lost sense of everything.

God no. God, she was over this. God, she had to be. Over everything. Over Manon. She hadn’t seen Manon touch another woman in a long time. There’s no surviving a heartbreak like that. She’d deliberately sliced the sight out of her life, removed every stitch of agony. The agony remained. There in the half-shadows in a charming bar on an island in the indigo sea, Elide Lochan forgot how to breathe.

Manon kissed someone else. Without thought, Elide’s hand clenched into a fist. Manon tipped the other woman’s head up, palm cupping her jaw, coming together deep and slow. It was impossible not to know where tonight would end. Impossible to not watch a stranger with hair like flame run her hands up Manon’s back, down the dip of her spine, over the curve of her thigh – 

“Miss?” Elide whipped around, returning, just for a blink, to the land of the living. The bartender stared back at her, only vaguely concerned.

“Um. I’ll have whatever the hell is strong. Really fucking strong. And a beer.”

The bartender mixed her drink in silence, but when he pushed the glass towards her, he said softly, “We call this little beauty the Tropic Thunder. It’s ‘really fucking strong.’ Good luck with whatever you’re trying to forget.” Their eyes met, and in that breath, Elide thought that this strange man in this strange place might be the only person who understood.

Thank you. And godspeed.

Taking the drinks, Elide saw Lorcan walking towards her. As she passed him the beer, he pulled her flush against his body and the ven diagram of them became a circle. And fate turns on small wheels.

Looking to the right, madness, insanity, whiteout, Elide saw Manon. Manon didn’t see her. Until, like a flicker-flash of lighting, a firefly in the dark, a moment stolen out of time, Manon did.

The world turned upside down.

Amber eyes tracked over every inch of Elide's body, every stitch of space where she breathed against Lorcan. And something inside that amber splintered. Manon turned away. Nudging her nose against her date’s throat, taking an earlobe carefully between her teeth, Manon whispered something into the other woman’s ear. She smiled and kissed Manon deep, her hands sliding through all that slivery hair. They stood together. They swayed, never quite detangling.

Manon Blackbeak took this stranger’s hand in her own and led her home.

Breathless.

Elide stood there as Manon passed them by, just feet away. Breathless. Lorcan grinned, lifting his beer bottle in mock salute and calling out, “Have a fun night, Blackbeak!”

“Fuck you too, Salvaterre.” Manon shot back, not bothering to turn around.

Breathless.

Elide stood there, staring down at the drink in her hand, every stitch of agony rewound. What if I don’t want to remember. What if I don’t want to forget.

“Lorcan,” she said quietly, “Let’s go home.”

“Hmm? I still have half a beer, babe.”

“Well drink it. I’m ready to go back.” Elide arched against Lorcan and ran her palms up his chest, painting her intentions into the lines of his body.

Lorcan looked down at her, pupils blown black. “Right. Yeah. Fuck the beer.” Setting the bottle onto a table, Lorcan echoed her, “Let’s go.”

In this firefly of a night – flickering, flickering, flicking – Elide dragged her eyes over Lorcan’s smooth gait and rolling muscles. She breathed in the rich, heady scent of his cologne. All I want to know is you. That’s it. That’s everything. Whiteout.

That night, there the hazy quiet of their room, Elide dropped to her knees. Undoing Lorcan’s belt with sure, smooth movements, she guided his cock into her mouth, feeling it stretch her jaw. Lorcan tangled his hands into her hair, holding her head still as he fucked into her mouth. With every short, shallow thrust, Lorcan grunted softly, body shaking with the effort of not pounding her harder.

Licking his length, Elide hummed, knowing the vibrations would drive Lorcan over the edge. She stared up the plane of his chest, the sharp curve of his jaw, and watched his hips thrust into her over and over, over and over.

“Elide.” Lorcan gasped, yanking her hair almost to the point of pain. “Elide!” He came in her mouth with a guttural groan, lost in the jerking of his hips even as Elide gagged a little on his come. But she knew Lorcan, what he liked, what he wanted, and she swallowed the bitter taste down.

Pulling out, Lorcan let Elide lick him clean. “You, babe, are a fucking angel.” He cupped her jaw, pressing a thumb against her bottom lip. Elide shifted to stand, wincing a bit when her ankle twinged in pain, and wrapped her limbs around Lorcan’s body.

“You know what I think?” she whispered. But what Elide thought never saw the light of day, because just then someone started knocking on their door, like really fucking loudly. A second later, a guy whose voice embodied the word _bro_ , yelled, “Lorcan, my man, get the hell out here! We’ve got Whitehorn and it’s time to fucking partayyy.”

“Shit, sorry babe.” Lorcan looked towards the door, grinning. “I forgot to tell you that the team’s taking Rowan out for one last drink of freedom. You good?” he asked, already heading for the door.

“Yeah.” Elide said softly. “I’m good.”

Lorcan was gone before she finished speaking.


	7. Blast Radius

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man, you guys. I don't even know where to start with the notes for this chapter. As I'm sure has become pretty clear, Elide and Lorcan do not have a healthy relationship. TW for emotional abuse in this chapter. 
> 
> The world is a scary, overwhelming place right now, so just know that this story will find it's way to happier ground. Hold faith in our girls.

_We love who we love, don’t we? I hope she loved her._

_\- Tin Man_

Bodies under pressure have a nasty habit of going boom. Welcome to the blast radius.

The morning of Aelin’s wedding dawned cool and bright. Elide dragged herself upright at 7 am, eyes full of grit and head drowning in fog. She had – memories, nightmares, flashes of a life so far gone it shouldn’t still be able to dog her footsteps.

Yet here she stood, the wolves at her heels.

Blood. Fire. Gun smoke.

_Don’t you ever dare crawl back_.

Not today you motherfucker. Elide closed her eyes. Not today.

Breakfast and coffee – she needed to drain the goddamned night away. Grabbing whatever clothes were closest, Elide kicked last night’s dress further under a chair. Which meant she looked good, really excellent, a hundred percent put together, when she crossed paths with Manon and Asterin in the hotel lobby, just back from their morning run.

People should look gross after running. People shouldn’t look like … fucking supermodels. Elide glanced down at her own wrinkled dress. She looked at Manon and Asterin, all expensive yoga pants and strappy sports bras and swinging ponytails. Yep. Alrighty then.

Time for me to go dig a hole to die in. Brb. 

“Elide!” Asterin grinned, stopping to bracing her hands on her knees. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Hi El.” Manon said softly, pausing a foot behind her cousin, eyes mapping over the pattern on the tile floor.

“Hey.” Elide responded softly.

Straightening up, Asterin looked between them, eyebrows furrowed. Her mouth fell open and for a moment, it looked like she wanted to say something. Or punch Manon. Clearly deciding that she didn’t have time for their horseshit, Asterin settled for: “Manon we should get going. You smell terrible.”

“Fuck off.” Manon shoved Asterin’s shoulder.

“Have a good morning Elide. See you in a bit.” Asterin said, still watching her far too closely.

Before the elevator doors shut behind them, Elide could have sworn she heard Asterin hiss at Manon, “Elide was at that bar last night? What the fuck were you think-”

Gone. Elide took a deep breath. They were gone and she needed coffee like she needed to breathe. Possibly more, given the caved-in feeling inside her chest. Come on Elide, there’s a possibility that not everything will go wrong today.

You think that, but also, Murphy’s Law is a bitch.

+

When Elide dares to remember, she feels a little bit of shame. Because Aelin had a beautiful wedding, a beautiful ceremony, she really was a beautiful bride. And Elide wasn’t awake for any of it. She stood there at the alter beside her sister, and she smiled, and a gray haze poured under every inch of her skin.

Her eyes sought out Lorcan, her eyes flicked to Manon, her eyes darted away.

Everything was fine. Remember that: everything’s fine.

She’d fought with Lorcan an hour before the ceremony – he didn’t like the bridesmaid dress that Aelin had chosen, said the cut of top was too revealing for a wedding. _What are people going to think when my girl shows up looking like that_. Elide hadn’t wanted to fight. She didn’t want anyone to know that they were fighting. She wanted – just let this nightmare be over.

Grabbing a gauzy shawl from Lysandra, Elide wore it just to shut Lorcan up and now he was smiling at her, standing with the other groomsmen, handsome and tall in a deep blue suit. Elide smiled back. We’re alright, right?

We’re just fine.

And standing there, staring into Lorcan’s eyes, trying to remember why god gave her lungs, drowning in the gray haze, Elide missed her own sister’s wedding.

\+ 

“Dance with me?” A smooth hand settled on her shoulder, all silver rings and simple, burnished nails. Manon.

“Sure.” Elide stood up and dropped the shawl like an afterthought, a half-forgotten dream. She took a breath. She could do this. When Manon held out a hand, Elide took it. Always.

Pulling Elide in close, Manon spun them into the slow rhythm of the jazz band, palm resting warm and steady against her spine. The other guests at the reception swirled around them as Elide and Manon danced together, soft and steady, to the mournful swing of trombones. “What’s wrong?” Manon asked quietly, her thumb painting circles over Elide’s bare back.

_I can’t tell you_. _I don’t know how to tell myself_.

Instead of answering, Elide laid her head on Manon’s shoulder, cheek resting against the soft fabric of Manon’s suit jacket. She murmured, “You know, they sell women’s shirts along with women’s suits.”

“Yes, El, but this was a really expensive bra. How the hell else I am supposed to show it off?”

Elide laughed instead of responding, her breath coming a bit easier. It was, and this is an objective opinion, a good look on Manon. With the jacket buttoning at her navel, Elide could clearly see the lacy black bra curved over Manon’s lightly tanned skin and she knew more than a few people would lose a piece of their sanity tonight.

Personal experience is a bitch.

“Are we good?” Manon nudged her nose into Elide’s hair.

“Yeah. We’re good.”

“We better be. Because I don’t want to lose you.”

“Well you’ve got me Blackbeak.” Elide draped her arms over Manon’s shoulders. Sway with me, sway with me softly. Forever and ever amen.

“Excuse me.” Oh shit. Lorcan. Elide pulled away, already dreading the cold shutters about to drop through Manon’s eyes. “Mind if I dance with _my_ girlfriend.”

Manon didn’t remove her hand from Elide’s back and she stared Lorcan down like a motherfucking predator. “Mind if you ask your girlfriend if _she_ has an opinion on the matter?”

“Babe?” Lorcan held out a hand, looking as impatient as he was pissed. There was a moment, a flicker-flash of time when Elide considered just … staying. Right there. “Elide!”

The lightning passed. And Elide found herself on other side of the storm, standing on this same old ground. She stepped away, taking Lorcan’s hand. _I’m sorry,_ she mouthed at Manon, as if that meant anything. _Talk later?_

But what sort of later would it be?

When Lorcan kissed her, Elide let him. But only because she didn’t know what else to do.

+

Joining Asterin at the bar, Manon snapped, “ _This_ is why I slept with Lexa last night. This. Bull. Shit.”

Turning to face her cousin, Asterin winced and said gently, “You’ve got to let her go, M. You’re going to burn yourself out.”

“I like your use of the future tense. How optimistic.”

Sighing through her nose, Asterin prepared to weather out the bitch of a hurricane sweeping through Manon’s mood. “You want to do shots?”

“I want to forget that this is happening.”

+

“She hesitated, Asterin. She motherfucking _hesitated_.”

“Then go get her.”

“ _I can’t_. I can’t decide for her.”

+

She’d hesitated. Elide knew it. Lorcan knew it. They both, dancing in this little circle of air slowly crushing them down, knew the truth.

What a beautiful wedding. What a beautiful day. Her sister, laughing beside the man she loved, flowers in her hair. Her surrogate parents, 30 years into marriage and still going strong, swaying together with their hands intertwined. Her best friends in the world, cutting loose like tonight was the last time before everything would never be the same.

Maybe they were right.

“Can we talk?” God, Elide was sick of those words.

Still, she looked Lorcan in the eye and said, “Sure.” Because her mother didn’t raise a coward. And life hadn’t yet beaten her past breaking.

Hugging her arms to her chest, Elide followed Lorcan onto a secluded balcony overlooking tropical gardens and, beyond, the glint of the sea. Welcome to paradise.

“Babe.” Lorcan ran hand over his beard, looking out over this promised land, looking back to her. “You know that I love you, right?”

“Yeah, I know.” Elide took his free hand, squeezing it tight.

“And I know you love me.”

“Yes. Of course.” Elide held Lorcan’s hand tighter, her heart a hundred small hammers beating in frantic time. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

Turning to look directly into Elide’s eyes, Lorcan said, “I don’t think you should see Manon anymore.”

“What?” The beat dropped out of Elide’s heart. Please no. “What … what does that even mean?”

Cupping both of Elide’s hands inside his own, Lorcan gently replied, “It means that I don’t think Manon is good for you, or for us. Our _relationship_. And I don’t want you seeing her anymore.”

“Lorcan … Manon’s just … I know she can be difficult. But she’s – she’s just Manon.”

“But she isn’t _just Manon_!” Lorcan threw his hands into the air in frustration and Elide flinched at the truth in his words. “If she’s _just Manon_ , why is she dancing with you like you’re her girlfriend? Like you belong to her? Why can’t she keep her hands to her fucking self?”

The unspoken question flared between them, bright and vicious as a signal flare: _and why were you dancing with Manon? Like you’re hers?_

Stepping closer to Elide, Lorcan took a deep breath and laid his hands on her shoulders. “Babe, I don’t want to do this, but Manon crosses line after line like they don’t even matter. But they do matter. To me.”

_What about you, Elide? Where’s the line you draw, where’s your Rubicon?_

“Lorcan, I know that you and Manon have never gotten along – ”

“But this isn’t about me, babe. This is about _us_.”

“Lorcan, she’s my best friend.” Elide could hear herself pleading and she hated herself and she didn’t know how to stop.

She didn’t know how to make it stop.

“Elide.” Lorcan lightly shook her shoulders. “Don’t you see it? Manon isn’t the girl you used to know. She takes from you, she just takes and she takes and now she wants to ruin our relationship, too. I love you, Elide, but I can’t fight for us on my own. I need _you_ to fight. I need you to want it.” Tilting his head until he looked directly in her eyes once more, Lorcan said, “I need to know that you love me.”

Elide didn’t recall the moment she stopped breathing, but she found that before she could speak she had to inhale. She had to try. Just try Elide, isn’t that what Lorcan always said? Just try. “Lorcan, I – _I swear_ , I do, I love you.”

“Then why won’t you act like it?”

“Please, Lorcan – we don’t need to – I’ve known Manon since I was eight.” Pleading and pleading and pleading. Let something make sense. Let anything make sense.

“Elide.” Lorcan came closer, curling his body protectively around her. “I know this isn’t easy. I know you care about her. That’s what makes you so special – how much you care about people, even when they don’t deserve it.

I love you, Elide, I just wish I could explain how much I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to have a family with you. I want to grow old with you. But it scares me to see how our relationship is slipping away, and I just … I feel like you’ve stopped trying.

I’d do anything to keep you, but can you honestly say the same? Because the thing that keeps coming between us is Manon.”

Oh god.

Elide felt a tear slip free, then another, and another and another a flood to annihilate the world. Something’s gotta give. My god I think it might be me.

“Lorcan – ” she tried to gather her breath, her panicking heart, “Lorcan …. _I can’t_ …” Another tear, another and another.

He just shook his head. “It’s me or her, Elide. I can’t stay with you as long as Manon’s in the picture.”

Elide surrendered to the heartbreak, these cracks spiraling through her. “ _Please_ , I love you, Lorcan, I swear.”

He didn’t move. He didn’t give. _You have to choose_.

And biting into the agony, Elide looked at Lorcan, looked clean through him. Beyond. To life after life after life – to all the homes she’d thought she had and then lost. _She had her parents and they’d died and left her. And she was alone. She had Vernon’s house and then came the dark years and the gun and the flames. And she was alone. She had Manon except for all the long lonely nights when she had nothing at all. And she was alone._

_I cannot lose one more home._

_I cannot bear it._

And Elide looked again at Lorcan. Her friend, her lover, her partner through so many adventures and bright days and long dark nights. She couldn’t know what her life would look like without him. She was so scared to lose again.

And Elide Lochan nodded. Even as she closed her eyes. Even as a tear slipped free.

Everything’s fine. You remember Elide saying that? Everything’s fine.

“Yes?” Lorcan asked, like he couldn’t quite believe his eyes.

Elide nodded again: _Yes_.

“Yes!” Lorcan whooped, picking her up and spinning her around in a tight hug. “Oh babe, I love you so much.”

Breathing against Lorcan’s shoulder, Elide held on tight and tried to let the scent of his cologne, earthy and warm, ground her down. She tried to inhale. Because there’s just one last thing I have to do, just one thing, before I lose myself in the whiteout.

“Just let me be the one to tell her,” Elide whispered against him. Pulling back a few inches, Lorcan looked down at her warily and opened his mouth to protest, but Elide carried on, saying softly so softly, “Lorcan, I’ll do it. I … I’ll end it, I promise and I’ve never broken a promise to you. I just need to tell her myself.”

Nodding, Lorcan bit his lip and shook his head. “Okay, babe. But if you change your mind or she’s being a bitch, just let me know and I’ll handle her. You never have to worry about Blackbeak again.”

Gently cupping Elide’s jaw, Lorcan stroked a thumb over her cheek and murmured, “God but I love you. How did I get so lucky to wind up with a girl like you? Gorgeous. Funny. Smart. Did I mention gorgeous?”

As Elide blushed, she tried to pretend like her hands weren't shaking and her heart wasn’t desperately fighting to find its way back. And losing. Kissing her other cheek softly, Lorcan said, “You know, this isn’t really how I thought tonight would go. I had a different plan. But now you have me, I have you, and I guess there really is no time like the present. So here goes nothing.” And there on a secluded balcony in the garden of paradise, Lorcan dropped to one knee.

Elide’s heart lost its beat entirely.

“Elide.” He cleared his throat. “Feels a bit redundant to say it, but I love you. I love you and I want to spend my entire life with you. I want to have babies with you. I want to spend every single day at your side. I’ll take care of you, I promise that you’ll never have to worry again. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Plus the sex isn’t half-bad.” He winked at her. “What I’m really trying to say is … Elide Lochan, will you do me the great honor of becoming Mrs. Salvaterre and marrying me?”

Lorcan held up a ring, white-bright diamond surrounded by a halo of rubies. A diamond is merely a reflection of the light passing through it. This ring glowed red. Elide stretched out one hand, her fingers just brushing the stones.

You love me. I love you. This is what people in love do.

And I’m so scared to lose you.

“Yes.” The cracks fracturing down her body split Elide clean in two.


	8. Albatross

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alrighty then, so this chapter is not happier than last chapter. I'm not even sure it's angst anymore. I think it's just heartbreak.

_repression, however, is not the most obvious characteristic of the sea_

_\- A Grave, Marianne Moore_

That night, Elide didn’t sleep. At 4 a.m., she wandered down to a patio overlooking the ocean and stayed there until dawn, just watching the water, her hand an aching weight. Formless, endless, quiet. How Elide craved the quiet. Eyes closed, half lost, Elide didn’t hear Manon approaching until it was too late.

“Hey El. What are you doing up so early?” Manon came to stand next to her and leaned on the balcony, dressed for her morning run.

“Hi Manon.” Elide replied softly, unable to meet the other woman’s eyes. The ocean boomed around them, unending, unyielding, undone. She felt undone. Spit it out. There’s no time like the present and the small wheels of fate have turned, turned, turned. “Lorcan asked me to marry him last night.”

“What?” Manon jerked, a half-aborted movement. Her hands gripped the railing, bone white. “Did – what did you say?”

In answer, Elide lifted up her left hand, the diamond gleaming between them.

“Oh.” Manon breathed out. She looked … lost.

“Manon.” Elide’s voice cracked on that name. Her childhood love, her teenage dream, her best friend. Here we stand at the end of our road. I’m so sorry, I’m so – “Manon we can’t see each other anymore.”

This time, Manon didn’t try to stop herself from flinching. Face pale, she said, “What the hell does that mean?”

“It means …” Elide ran her hands through her hair, facing the ocean because she couldn’t face this. Here. You. Us. “Lorcan and I … we talked about it. This friendship we have, it’s not good for our relationship. It’s not good for me. So I can’t keep seeing you.” Her eyes slipped shut for a moment, the heartbeat of a firefly.

“No, fuck no.” Manon spat, the fine muscles in her hands shaking. “That’s bullshit.”

“Manon, I’m so sorry.” Elide’s voice cracked. Cracked and cracked and cracked. The words weren’t good enough, why couldn’t the words be good enough. “But I can’t. I promised. I have to fight for him. For us.”

“This is Salvaterre’s doing, isn’t it.” Manon said, low and dangerous. “He’s fucking making you.”

“Lorcan and I decided together.” Elide whispered. A tear slipped free.

“Don’t you dare try and tell me that what we have isn’t good.” Manon said, her voice shaking. She got right up in Elide’s space. “El, don’t do this. What Lorcan’s asking – it isn’t right. Come with me, or I’ll get Aelin or Lysandra or Dorian or anyone. I’ll do anything, just please don’t go with him. _Please_.” Manon lifted a hand, her fingers coming up to brush Elide’s cheek. We’ve lived this life a thousand times before, a thousand times and … Elide flinched away.

She had never flinched from Manon before.

Manon froze.

Stealing herself, Elide closed her eyes once more. _Just t_ _ry for me. I promise. I cannot bear to lose one more home. I cannot._ “No.” She breathed the word. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. You don’t know anything.”

“Then look me in the eyes.” Manon’s voice came out numb. “Fucking look me in the eyes and say it.”

So Elide did. “I can’t see you anymore.”

“Coward.”

The word hit Elide like a slap. Manon tore through the world with her claws out, but she had never once snapped at Elide. 

In the aftershock of that pain came anger, and god it felt good. “Don’t you dare call me a coward,” Elide spat. “You’ve never liked Lorcan. You pushed him, and you pushed me, and you’ve wanted us to break up since the day we started dating. Plot twist Manon – I’m not yours. This has _never_ been your decision to make.”

Manon Blackbeak did not crack. She never cracked. She went toe-to-toe with life and came out the other side, head held high. Elide believed this with the conviction of breathing. But here, at a cool dawn on a small island, Elide watched certainty splinter.

Face pale, Manon said, “He cuts you down. He crushes everything good and bright and brilliant inside you. He’s _hurting_ you. That’s what I really think, Elide Lochan. And you might believe different, but I’ve held back from ripping through him all these years out of respect for you.”

“You _never_ accepted that I love him.”

“Oh don’t be such a fucking idiot. I accepted it, all right. But I never liked it. What? Did you want me get on my knees at night and pray _my god, I hope Elide loves a man who thinks she’s an object, not a human being_?”

“Do not talk about Lorcan like that.”

“He’s with because he likes fucking you!” Manon threw the words in her face. “He likes fucking you and he likes showing you off to his friends, but he doesn’t love you. Not really.”

“You’re jealous of what I have with him.” Elide shot back, shaking. “You’re lonely and you’re jealous and you spend your days finding women you don’t care about to fill your nights with. So don’t you dare talk to me about love. You wouldn’t know what it is.”

Manon smiled at her then, and it was a splintered thing. Sharp, and small, and ragged. Manon cracked cleaned through. “So that’s what you think about me. About us. All those years together. Well here’s what I think. Honesty, isn’t that right, _babe_? We’re being honest now. You think I never loved you? You want to end us? Then it’s ended. Stay out of my fucking way – I certainly won’t be bothering you again.”

Elide’s nails bit through her palms. Almost idly, she wondered when the pain would hit. It never did. You ever heard a noise so loud, it crosses the event horizon into silence?

Yeah. Like that.

That’s how Asterin found them. Five feet apart, breathing too hard, not breathing at all, a catastrophe, a blowout, a whiteout. The end.

“What the hell is going on?” Asterin said, looking from Elide to Manon to Elide.

“Ask her.” Manon spat. Shoulders shaking, she turned fast and stalked away, never looking back.

“Elide?” Asterin half-turned to follow her cousin, hesitating.

Crossing her arms over her chest, Elide snapped, “Talk to her. I’m done.”


	9. Hallowed Ground

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi guys - I'm sure this will come as a big shock to all involved, but this chapter deals with the fallout of last chapter, so it's not exactly a bucket of rainbows (although basically everyone remains so, so gay).
> 
> but bonus round! we finally get to spend some quality time with the thirteen. Enjoy :)

_Hold faith. There is always time to begin again._

Miami rushed by Elide in a blur. The longest day of her life – over. The longest plane flight of her life – finished. Stepping into her old, ratty apartment in the unfashionable bit of town, Elide barely made it to the worn-out couch before she started crying.

Curling up under a soft throw blanket from her college years ( _don’t think about college, don’t think about that, about life after life after life_ ), Elide finally went quiet. She lay there. She didn’t bother to pretend to watch TV. She didn’t bother to make dinner. She didn’t really bother to do anything.

You know what happens when you smear an oil painting? You ruin the painting.

+

Manon worked herself to the point of exhaustion and then pushed clean over the edge. She hardly had time to see the inside of her apartment. She sure as hell didn’t give herself time to hear the inside of her own head. Her sleep schedule was – in technical medical terminology – fucked.

It didn’t matter.

At dawn, she ran until her lungs burned in agony and then she ran further.

It didn’t matter.

She didn’t bother to answer her cousins’ texts. What was there to say?

\+ 

Aelin

_Maureen_ : Hey Aelin

_Aelin_ : Hey Elide’s roommate! What’s up?

_Maureen_ : You talked to Elide lately?

_Aelin_ : No

_Maureen_ : oh

_Aelin_ : Why?

What’s wrong? Is she okay?

What’s going on

_Maureen_ : I honestly don’t even know how to answer that

_Aelin_ : can I call?

You know what, you home? I’ll be right over

+

Aelin (ineffectively) paced the small living room in the apartment Elide that shared with Maureen. “What the hell? What the fucking hell.” Collapsing down onto the ratty old couch, Aelin shoved her hands into her hair and stared down at the carpet, a little bit totally lost.

Thank god Elide was at the vet clinic right now, because otherwise Aelin would hug her and then probably throttle her.

Trying to pull herself back together, Aelin eventually said, “Tell me again.”

Dropping onto the couch next to Aelin, Maureen shook her head, “I thought she would have told you,” she said softly, soft purple bruises of exhaustion under her eyes. “Aelin, she’s a mess. Like, a serious mess. I mean, I don’t know much – Elide will barely talk to me now. But, like … I don’t know, it’s more what she isn’t saying, you know. I just … I don’t want to assume or anything – ”

“Maureen,” Aelin cut her off, “spit it out.”

“Look, I think she and Manon had a fight. A really bad fight. Like it’s already been a week and I still don’t think they’re talking. Honestly, I don’t know if they’re ever going to figure it out.”

“Shit.” Aelin stood up again, pacing and pacing. “Look, I’ll talk to her. I’ve got her, I promise.”

“Thank you.”

Resting a hand on Maureen’s shoulder, Aelin said, “It’s going to be okay.”

+

Elide didn’t bother answering Aelin’s texts. Or her calls.

Because she was busy. Busy being a goddamned vet and cleaning the clinic and re-cleaning the clinic and sitting with the animals, hours upon hours, she had always understood them better than people. All they asked for was kindness. Just simple kindness.

Elide poured the soul she couldn’t carry anymore into their softly blinking eyes.

You give an animal love and they love you in return. That’s it, that’s all, forever and ever. Amen.

It must be the closest thing to peace.

+

Another week went by.

And Elide was still busy, so very busy. Busy going out with Lorcan, to bars and restaurants and clubs, smiling and smiling because wasn’t she the luckiest girl in the world, to have him.

Wasn’t she?

She was busy. Watching Lorcan show her off to all his friends, _my gorgeous fiancé,_ as everyone laughed loud and partied even harder. Her ankle ached all the time and she pushed through the pain, clean through it. Hello there, my old friend.

Elide stop bothering to read Aelin’s texts.

+

“Where the hell is Manon?” Fallin flopped onto the couch next to Asterin, poking her in the shoulder with a tortilla chip.

“Busy. Go be an animal somewhere else.”

“Too busy for poker night?” Sorrel sat on the couch like a normal human, tucking her feet underneath her. “That’s bullshit.”

Shuffling the deck, Ghislaine snapped, “Yeah, the last time we heard that, Manon was dating Iskra.”

Collectively, twelve women took in a deep breath, the temperature in the room dropping by a few degrees. Iskra didn’t exactly have a lot of … fans among the cousins.

Settling her knitting to the side, Lin, the youngest of them, just nineteen years old, said softly, “She won’t even answer my texts. I asked if I could come by to see Abraxos and … nothing. Just nothing.”

“Oh yeah?” Vesta twisted the cap off a bottle of whiskey and drank straight from it. “You should see her at work. She keeps going quiet, scary quiet – she’s terrifying the fucking interns. Hell, she’s terrifying most of the company. It’s like dealing with Matron 2.0.”

“Don’t call her that,” Asterin snapped, her voice laced with fury, “don’t you fucking dare.”

Vesta held her hands in the air, but she didn’t back down. “Then tell her to ease up, just a goddamned inch.”

“I don’t tell Manon to do _anything_.”

“Yeah but she listens to you! God she can be such a fucking – ”

Before someone ended up in the ER needing stitches (again), Sorrel stepped in. “Ves. That’s enough.”

“I’m not wrong!” Vesta said, standing up fast, her body vibrating with barely contained energy.

“No. You’re not.” Sorrel replied calmly. “But that’s enough.”

Stalking out of the room, Vesta said, “Fuck you all,” and threw a middle finger over her shoulder for good measure.

The living room went quiet for a few moments, Asterin staring at the far wall, staring beyond, to the place where the horizon lay. Eventually, Imogen stood up and said softly, “I’ll go talk to her. Ves is just tired – Manon really has been difficult at work. It’s been rough on all of us, but Ves has been taking the brunt of it.”

Sighing, Asterin massaged the bridge of her nose. “Okay, thanks Gee Gee. Try not to get punched. Look … tell Ves that I’ll talk to Manon, alright?”

“Sure thing. Save me alcohol – and remember, no touching that stuff, Short Stack.” Imogen replied, ruffling Lin’s hair as she walked out of the room.

With Lin distracted glaring at her older sister and muttering _I’m taller than you_ and Asterin looking like she regretted being born, Fallon took a swig of beer and said, “Can we get this show on the road? Fucking poker night – why is there always so much drama? And Manon better show up next time. It’s no fun when I don’t get to watch her lose.”

But Fallon’s casual tone didn’t hide the fact that nine pairs of eyes were turned towards Asterin, worried. Very worried.

Asterin resisted the urge to check her phone, just one more time. Just because maybe Manon would finally text back.

+

Elide

_Aelin_ : come to brunch w/ the fam

Please

I will keep texting you

Until you respond

Think I’m joking?

Text back

Elide

Elide

Elide

Elide

Elide

Elide

Elide

_Elide_ : I’m busy

_Aelin_ : you have the weekend off. Come to family Sunday brunch. We really miss u.

_Elide_ : Lorcan and I have a thing.

Sorry

_Aelin_ : Come on

Elide?

Please

+

_You think I never loved you?_

+

“Fucking seriously?” Ghislaine dropped a fresh pack of cards onto the table. “Manon’s ditching again?”

“She’s not ditching. She’s just … busy.” Asterin pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to bite back her frustration and not entirely succeeding.

Thea poured herself a glass of wine, saying, “Manon’s never too busy for poker night. Anyone else remember the time she got surgery on her shoulder and still showed up three hours later? Asterin – what’s really going on? Is it because of Elide? I heard they had a fight.”

“Honestly,” Asterin bit down on her tongue for a long moment. “I wish I could tell you.”

Leaning back against the couch, Vesta rested her head against Asterin’s knee. “Thanks for talking with her, at least. She’s better at work. I mean, still a fucking pain. But better.”

“Talking?” Asterin laughed, short and sharp. “We don’t talk. I’m boxing with her every night. You owe me a new set of ribs.”

Wincing, Vesta said, “I’ll Postmates you Advil.”

“You fucking better.”

“It’s been a month.” Edda picked up the card pack and started playing with it restlessly before tossing it to Briar. “We haven’t seen or heard from Manon in a month. I’m learning more about her life from her Instagram than from her.”

“Yeah. I know.” Asterin didn’t bother to reach for her phone. No point. No fucking point.

+

_Elide Lochan, has there ever been a day when I didn’t love you? I don’t remember it. Lord save me, I wouldn’t want to._

+

At night, Elide dreamed of the fire.

A wild man screaming. Screaming and screaming.

He just kept screaming

There were two gun shots. There was gun powder on her hands. She had bloody teeth.

Kerosene.

A world in flame.

She woke up bucking, gasping, igniting.

She threw up.

She didn’t fall back to sleep.

+

On Sunday, Elide put on a nice dress and nice earrings and nice shoes and went to have brunch with Lorcan’s family. It was all so very nice.

She hugged his nice mother, whose blond hair was permed into an impenetrable helmet and who smiled like a shark that found itself trapped in suburbia one day and never figured out how to leave. She shook the hand of his nice father, who wore tennis shorts and a blindingly white sun visor inside the house and made racist ( _it’s not racist I’m just saying! Just saying!_ ) comments about their Cuban neighbors.

See? It's all so very, very _nice_.

She smiled at Lorcan's mother, even when the woman grabbed her arm and offered to take her wedding dress shopping. “You poor dear, with your parents dead and all. Such a tragedy.” Elide's hand got patted, quite aggressively. “Just think of me as your new mom. Especially once those grand-babies come along.” _Wink_. 

Lorcan smiled and smiled, draping an arm across her shoulders. Elide smiled and smiled, even as her legs crossed reflexively and a thought crawled through her head, slow and steady and unstoppable: _but I don't want children._

+

“Thanks for meeting me.” Asterin said as Aelin dropped into the seat across from her. “And you only managed to be a little late.”

“Nice sunglasses.” Aelin shot back.

“You do know I’m a professional DJ, right? I go to bed at 5 am. Being awake at 10 am is … ungodly.”

“And I’m trying to make partner at a law firm before thirty. Life sucks.”

Sighing, Asterin shoved the sunglasses into her hair, revealing eyes rimmed with an exhaustion that had nothing to with four hours of sleep.

For a while, the two women sat quietly, watching each other while the coffee shop hummed around them. Finally, Aelin shattered the ice, saying, “Well as much fun as this is, I’m busy so let’s get to the point. Elide’s doing like shit. How’s Manon?”

Asterin studied Aelin for a long moment, weighing her words. “Shit.”

“Great. That’s just fantastic.” Aelin took a sip of coffee. “Thank your cousin, by the way, for fucking my sister up.”

Going an eerie sort of still, Asterin fixed her gold-flecked eyes on Aelin’s face. “Thank _your sister_ for hitting Manon exactly where she knew she’d bleed.”

Leaning her head back, Aelin groaned and said, “This isn’t getting us anywhere, is it?”

“No.”

“Fucking hell. Look – Elide won’t even come over to family Sunday brunch. We never miss that, _ever_.

I mean, it’s been almost a _month and a half_. I show up to her apartment, and she’s not there. I go to the vet clinic, but the second her shift is up, she’s off to do something with Lorcan.” Aelin’s teeth worried at her lower lip and she turned her head to the side, suddenly blinking back tears. “She won’t talk to me. I can barely even get her on the phone.”

“Manon keeps skipping poker night.” And Aelin would be a fool if she didn’t notice the worry leaking into Asterin’s voice. “It’s all thirteen of us, every two weeks, and she _never_ skips it. She – ” But Asterin bit off the rest of that sentence and buried it behind her teeth.

Toying with the handle of her mug, Aelin finally said, “Look. Blackbeak. Your cousin and I aren’t exactly best friends.” A statement which had Asterin snorting with laughter. “Yeah, I know right? But for reasons that escape me entirely, Elide and Manon are important to each other. Really important.”

Asterin nodded once. That’s all Aelin needed.

“Okay then. I don’t think you’re going to give up on Manon, and I’m not about to give up on my sister either. Look, you have my number. If you need me – text me, call me, whatever me. You think of a way to help these two fucking idiots, I’m all ears.”

“Good luck, Galathynius.”

“You too, Blackbeak. You too.”

+

On another Friday night like all the other Friday nights, Elide sat beside Lorcan in a club she couldn’t care less about and smiled.

His teammates yelled and laughed and hollered and made all the other annoying sounds of male bonding. When Rowan hugged her tightly and asked how she was, Elide smiled and smiled. _Fine, good, great actually. Give my love to Aelin_.

He studied her for a long moment before commenting that Aelin might like to hear it in-person.

_It’s good to see you Rowan_. Elide turned her back to him and leaned over to kiss Lorcan – deeply, madly – losing herself in the whiteout.

+

_she lit up my goddamned life_

+

Manon almost deleted all her text messages with Elide.

She very nearly did it, thumb hovering. Hovering. Hovering.

_why do you have such shit taste in coffee, blackbeak? This is all sugar no liquid_

_im running late – see you in 5!_

_New episodes of say yes to the dress on hulu. Be there or be square. You have no choice_

_Be honest? Would you be the bachelorette? You’d be a fucking glorious bachelorette – suck on that chris Harrison. Please be the next bachelorette, do it for the women of America. Do it for me_

_Can I snag a ride? It’s late and I miss you_

I miss you.

Manon nearly deleted it all. Nearly. Nearly.


	10. Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright you guys, this chapter is rough (like emotionally rough, just writing it took three days straight). TW for verbal and physical abuse - if you don't want to read this chapter for any reason, there's a brief summary of it in the end notes with very minimal details. Just so y'all know, this is the last time there will be physical/verbal/emotional abuse in the story. It will get mentioned again, but only in the context of the characters moving forward. 
> 
> I know these last chapters haven't been happy, but our girls are finding their way back to steady ground. I promised fluff in the story and goddamn it, I will deliver. It gets so much happier from here on out. Stay safe and healthy in this mad world.

_Sometimes I notice that a teenager in the family group is present in body – smiling, polite, apparently attentive – but absent. I think, I hope she has found an interstice, made herself some spare time, wriggled into it, and is alone there, deep down there, thinking, feeling._

_-_ _Ursula K. Le Guin_

Everything’s fine. Do you remember Elide saying that? Everything’s fine.

7 pm. Friday night. A long day. A long day in a series of long days that had started bleeding together, no edge, no real end. Elide felt exhausted, clean to the bone, the kind that sleep can’t fix.

Wandering into her apartment, she dropped her bag on the floor, turned her phone to silent, and started hunting in the fridge for half-assed leftovers. She couldn’t remember lunch. Presumably breakfast had happened (she couldn’t remember it either).

Pressing a palm to her forehead, Elide tried to breathe.

Until a knock sounded at the door, she’d completely forgotten that Lorcan was coming over.

Shit.

Not tonight. Oh dear god, what did he have planned for tonight? The knock sounded again, less patient than before. Louder. Swinging the door open, Elide pinned her third best smile to her face. “Hey.”

“Hi.” Lorcan quickly kissed her, sweeping into the apartment. “I can’t wait till you move in with me. These ceilings are barely taller than I am.”

It might be – and this is just a suggestion, a wild card, an idea straight out of left field – because of the fucking man bun. Elide didn’t say that, but she thought it. Loudly. So loudly that the thought reverberated, echoed, dragged track marks across her skull and against the back of her teeth.

“Mhmm.” She agreed without agreeing, going back to hunting for leftovers.

“What does _mhmm_ mean?” Lorcan asked playfully. Except Elide knew that tone of voice, and Lorcan wasn’t really playing at all. He came to stand behind her, hands covering her hips. Without thinking – exhausted and hungry and goddamned frustrated – Elide jerked away from his touch, going to shove some soup in the microwave. “Babe? What the hell?”

“Lorcan.” She sighed, running a hand through her hair. “I’m just tired, okay? I had a long day at work and now I have a headache. I want to eat my soup.”

“Fine,” he huffed, “but there’s no need to be a bitch about it.” Elide froze. Take a deep breath, take another deep breath, and unthaw. She couldn’t bear another fight with him, not tonight. Lorcan, continuing a spectacular streak of refusing to read the fucking room, muttered, “It’s almost like you _don’t_ want to move in with me.”

Two minutes left on her soup – she just needed to make it two minutes. And apparently that small amount of mental processing qualified as taking _too long to respond_ because Lorcan said, in a sharp, low tone, “You do want to move in with me, right?”

“Yes, of course.” Elide said, a little sharp herself. A minute thirty left on the soup. “It’s just – we’ve been over this, it’s not that simple. I have the lease and then there’s Maureen and – ”

He cut her off, “Yeah, we have been over this. I told you. I’ll pay to break the lease and, honestly babe, Maureen could do a lot better than this place.”

Ding!

Taking her soup out of the microwave with shaking hands (when did she suddenly get this pair of shaking hands?), Elide replied, “Look, can’t we just, I don’t know, talk about it tomorrow or something? Please? I’m tired – you know there’s no way I’m making a decision tonight.” She tried to sound sweet, she tried to smile up at him.

Try. Try. Try.

As Elide set the soup onto the counter, Lorcan pulled her close again, slotting their bodies together, back to chest. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he pressed a scratchy kiss to her cheek, “Alright, but as long as I get to wake up to you in my bed every morning soon, Mrs. Salvaterre.”

Swatting him away, Elide smiled. Just smiled and smiled. 

Grabbing a beer out of the fridge, Lorcan said, “Down some Advil and eat fast, remember we have the team’s St. Patty’s day party at Cantori tonight.”

“Oh fuck.” And Elide really didn’t mean to say that out loud. But oh _fuck_. Not another goddamned club. Another 3 am night. Another Saturday spent soaking her aching ankle. Another another another. She barely resisted the urge to scream. A sharp, small noise might have leaked out between her teeth anyway. “Lorcan …”

“Don’t tell me you’re backing out?” And now he really didn’t sound amused.

“No. I’m just …” She tried to take a bite of soup. She stared down at the spoon. She dropped it back into the bowl, suddenly unable to face the act of eating. “Can’t we do a night in? Beer? Pizza? Netflix and chill?” Winking at him, Elide silently urged, _come on, play along with me, spend time with me._

“Elide.” Lorcan set his beer on the kitchen counter with a _clink_. “We agreed to go. We’d look pretty shitty if we didn’t show up. Like, this is my team – you need to try for them.”

“I know. I _know._ ” She pushed her soup away, trying to summon the energy. “I’m just tired.”

“We’ll get a beer or two in you and you’ll be just fine.”

Sighing, Elide started mindlessly shoving treats in the direction of Heathcliff, Maureen’s cat, who definitely wasn’t allowed on the kitchen counter and definitely came up there all the time. One treat, two treat, one treat, two treat –

“Elide!”

“Hmm?” She straightened up, blinking her way back to the land of the living.

“Were you even listening to me?” Lorcan snapped.

“Yeah, yeah of course.”

“Then what was I saying?”

“Fuck – I don’t know.” Elide shoved her hands through her hair, suddenly so close to tears.

“Why the hell are you getting upset?” Lorcan said, getting upset. “Jesus. All this drama. Get yourself together and stop playing with the fucking cat.” He threw those last words at Heathcliff, voice booming out.

“Don’t yell at the cat!” Elide suddenly snapped back.

“I’ll yell at whoever and whatever I want to until you – Jesus, Elide, leave the cat alone and listen to me.” With one sweep of his arm, Lorcan knocked Heathcliff off the counter.

Elide heard the thump when Heathcliff hit the ground.

She heard his _meow_. She heard his paws skitter as he got the hell out of there.

Elide froze.

In her mind, she saw it again. And again. And again. Lorcan’s sneering face. Lorcan’s arm swinging out. Heathcliff going right over the edge of the table.

In a voice she hardly recognized as her own, Elide breathed out, “What did you just do?”

And maybe for the first time in a very long time, Lorcan recognized that he stood far from solid ground. Because he tried to _laugh it off_. “That cat was in the way. It’s not in the way anymore. Besides, don’t the little bastards have nine lives or something like that?” Smile. Wink. “Now, can we please go?”

“No.”

“Excuse me?” Lorcan stared at her shock. “What the hell does that mean?”

“It means – ” Elide tested the words out on her tongue, “ – no. I’m not going.”

Throwing his hands in the air, Lorcan said, “God, you’re such a drama queen. The cat’s fine, Elide. The. Cat. Is. Fine. The only person who has a problem here is you. Now, let’s go.” But she didn’t move, and he turned back to stare at her, eyes narrowing, “Wait, don’t tell me. Is it because the club is owned by that fucking dyke?”

“What?” Elide went still. Still as death. After all, living people are usually seen breathing.

“You heard me.” And now Lorcan seemed to be enjoying himself, throwing the words in her face. “Manon Blackbeak. That fucking dyke.”

“Don’t call her that.”

“Chill out, Elide. I don’t understand why you’re getting all PC on me.”

“Don’t _ever_ call her that.” Elide snapped, her hands shaking.

“Why?” Lorcan snapped right back. “That’s what she is. A dyke who needs to be taught her place in the world.”

“Oh _fuck you_.”

“I thought you were over this, Elide! Look at you, defending _her_. Jesus Christ, I knew it, being around her was always too much temptation – you fucking bisexuals can never keep it in your pants.”

Elide suddenly breathed. The force of that inhale hit her like a gun shot, like a bullet breaking through skin and bone and marrow. For the first time in days in weeks in months in years, Elide Lochan breathed. And in that clear air, she looked at the person standing in front of her. Really looked at him.

His red face. His furious eyes. His body, trying to dominate all the available space.

She was tired.

Tired of being pushed around, being told what to do, being told how to do it, being told to _smile_. She had sworn to herself, _sworn_ , as a fifteen-year-old girl covered in blood and kerosene and gun smoke, that she would never let anyone own her, ever again. She would not let someone invalidate her sexuality ever again. She was done tip-toeing across the glass of her own life. She – and he’d pushed a cat off the counter. He hurt a cat. And he didn’t care.

He’d hurt her.

And he didn’t care.

Elide inhaled. Elide exhaled. Elide inhaled again. Everything inside her was clear. Like clean water without a fracture. She felt tired. She was done feeling tired.

Glancing down, Elide looked at the engagement ring sitting on her finger. She’d always hated rubies.

“Babe?” Lorcan asked, still believing in solid ground.

“Get out of my house.”

“Get … get out? Of your house?”

“Yes.” No hesitation. Elide breathed again. Elide finally breathed.

“I’m your _fiancé_.” Lorcan spat, like it meant anything.

“No, you’re leaving.” Elide pointed at the door.

Except Lorcan wasn’t leaving.

“This is insane.” He muttered, shoving his hands into his hair, messing up his precious bun. “It’s – you’re insane.”

He still didn’t leave. Elide felt her heart start to jackhammer. Her phone, shit where was her fucking phone – she should have it she needed to have it. Elide never got the time to remember. With one stride, Lorcan stood in front of her and grabbed her wrists, pressing her hands tight against his chest. “Stop this, Elide. I need you to stop this.”

“Let me go.” His grip hurt, _shit_ , it really hurt. “Lorcan!”

He squeezed tighter, to the point of pain. “You need to start making sense.”

“You need to let go.” Elide tried to yank herself away, she tried she fucking tried, but she couldn’t break his hold on her. She couldn’t – her heart hammered against her ribs – she couldn’t – she couldn’t – breathe again.

His grip tightened down. Speaking to himself, like something out of a dream, Lorcan murmured, “We’re going to the party. Everything will be fine. Everything’s fine.”

“Lorcan stop!” Elide fought against his grip, “You’re hurting me!”

“Shut up!” Lorcan yelled back, “Jesus, just shut up.” He shoved her away. He shoved way too hard.

Because Elide’s damaged ankle couldn’t take the sudden force and it collapsed underneath her and she went down. Her back smacked into the kitchen counter and she tried to catch herself but too late, too late, and her ankle crumpled and her body twisted and her cheek bone _cracked_ against the edge of the counter and she hit the floor.

She hit the floor.

 _Everything’s fine_. You remember Lorcan saying that? _Everything’s fine._

Too late, too late, too late.

The world spun in place around Elide. Something warm trickled down her cheek. When would the pain hit? She felt no pain. Lorcan looked down at her, his face white.

“Elide …”

“ _Get out_.”

“Do you need me to – I can – Elide…”

She pushed herself onto her elbows. She tasted her own blood. “Get. Out.”

Throwing one last terrified look at her, Lorcan ran. The front door slammed behind him. That was a very loud noise, in this silence. Elide sat there, still dead still, staring at … the spinning world, the spinning world, the spinning world.

Then her body jerked into flurry of action, limbs scrambling, and she lunged for the door, hitting it with a thud and throwing the lock and dropping. Just dropping. Right there against the wood. Elide shuddered, her fingers pressed against the brass deadbolt until the dents in her skin could become scars. Where is the pain? All I feel is pain.

Elide had no idea how long she stayed there. Spinning. Spinning. Blood tricked down her neck and curled into her collarbone, staining her red. Down the hall, footsteps sounded, big footsteps, loud footsteps, and Elide scrambled back, getting as far away as she could, limping and trying to run and failing and limping for everything she had left. Slamming the bathroom door behind her, Elide turned that lock too and she curled low into the bathtub, not daring to move.

Silence.

She couldn’t breathe.

She couldn’t breathe.

The apartment sank into deeper silence.

She couldn’t breathe.

Dimly, against all the chaos, Elide felt something hard in the back pocket of her jeans. Hands shaking, Elide pulled it free. Her phone. Oh. There you are, old friend. I’ve been looking for you.

She – she couldn’t

She needed to – she needed

Please pick up, oh my god, I’ll do anything, just please pick up. Hands shaking harder, she dialed and _please pick up god please pick up please pick up I need you I need you to pick up please._

One ring.

Two rings.

Three rings.

“… Hello?”

“Manon!” Elide sobbed her name, voice cracking. “Manon, please don’t hang up Manon _please_.”

“Elide? What … what’s wrong?”

But Elide couldn’t answer. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t answer. The shaking colonized her body. From Manon’s end of the line she heard a muffled conversation, footsteps, a door closing. She heard Manon say, “El. I’m here. What happened?"

Taking in a ragged inhale, Elide let out something that sounded like a sob. At the sound of Manon’s voice, she just cried. And Manon let her, a patient inhale, exhale, there on the other end of the line.

When the sobs slowed to shudders again, Manon said softly, “El – I don’t need you to stop crying, okay? I just need you to take a breath. Alright? Just one breath.” Elide tried. “That’s it. You can do this. Just one more breath. And another.”

Elide tried. For Manon, she tried. “I think ….” the words came out slowly, from a long way down, “I think I’m having a panic attack.”

“That’s okay. Just keep breathing.”

Elide tried. She tried.

“El …” Manon spoke slowly, like she wasn’t sure what words to say, “What’s happening? Are you alone right now?”

Nodding, Manon couldn’t see her nodding, Elide replied, “I’m … he’s … Lorcan’s gone … he … I locked the doors behind him I locked them.”

The other end of the line went silent. Dead silent.

Oh god please don’t leave me now, Elide didn’t even know that she was saying the words aloud, _god please don’t leave me now_ , until Manon cut off her litany, “El – _El_ – I’m here. I’m right here.”

“Oh. Okay.” Her voice didn’t sound steady at all.

Neither did Manon’s as she said, “El, are you alright? Did … did he hurt you?”

The tremors crawled back up her spine, one by one by one. “I think I’m bleeding.”

“ _Fuck._ ” Manon breathed the word. “Do you need me to call 911 – ”

“No,” Elide spat, suddenly vicious, “No Manon, no cops, you know that, no fucking cops.”

“Not the cops, El.” Manon said, her voice soft, soothing. “I know. An ambulance. Do you need to go to the hospital?”

She shook her head again, Manon couldn’t see her, “I – no. I don’t. Manon … _I don’t know what to do now_.” Any maybe the tears started slipping free again. Maybe she couldn’t stop them, even if she wanted to.

“Do you want me to – ” Manon paused, her breath hitching, her voice hitching, and Elide could see her face right now, picture it so clearly. Manon’s eyes slipping closed, a hand pushing through her hair, biting down on her lip because the words weren’t good enough.

“Will you come?” Elide asked, finishing the sentence that Manon couldn’t bring herself to. “I know I don’t have any right to ask that, I know that but – ”

“Yes.”

“It’s my apartment. I’m at my apartment.”

“I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

“But it takes twenty minutes to drive here.”

“Not tonight it doesn’t.”

“Please don’t get arrested for speeding.”

“Who said anything about getting arrested for it?”

And there she was, classic Manon, as familiar to Elide as her own heartbeat. She felt something like a smile curl at the edge of her mouth. She felt an old ache bloom to life in her chest, right there beneath her ribs.

“El?” Manon’s voice broke against the quiet. “You still with me?”

A car door shut. An engine started.

“I’m here. Please don’t … are you going to hang up?”

“Not on my life.”

Closing her eyes, Elide let her head come to rest against the cool tile wall. Her breath slowly evened out. “Thank you.”

“Always, El.”

Everything hurt. Nothing hurt as much as it could. This feels like a start.

“Manon?”

“Yeah?”

“Will you talk to me about something? Anything that isn’t …” _this._

“Anything?” Manon paused for a moment, and it was like the last month and a half reared its ugly head, filled every crevice and cavity and space, anything touches everything what about everything since I stood there and fucking destroyed you. Suddenly, it was like that last month and a half hadn’t happened at all. Stitches close a wound, not cover a scar. There we stood at the edge of the ocean, at the end of our road.

Here we stand.

“Anything.” Manon repeated again. And then she gave Elide grace: “Well, about two weeks ago, Lin called Asterin at 3 in the morning, panicking, because she tried a pot brownie for the first time and couldn’t remember where she’d left her phone. The one she was holding. In her hand.”

That got Elide to laugh, a pale, fragile thing. “Umm?”

“Oh yeah.” And was that the sound of Manon smiling, the gesture flickering through her tone? “Except Rin was working that night, and she’d forgotten her phone at home, so it was a very half-asleep Petrah who answered.”

“Oh my god.” And Elide laughed a little harder, body curling around her phone, anchor to chain.

“Now you’re getting the picture. Let’s just say, as a lawyer, Petrah was not amused. As someone who really didn’t expect to be fielding that call at 3 am, she was … slightly more amused.”

“I’m sorry I missed it.” Elide meant that to sound lighthearted, easy, funny. But it didn’t.

And Manon must have felt it too, all the weight hanging around them, all their shit, all these sins, because she replied in a voice that wasn’t quite steady, “Me too.”

The call went quiet, but that wasn’t a bad thing. You’re here breathing. I’m here breathing. It feels like a start.

A car engine stopped. A door clicked open, shut. A – Manon huffed, “Why do you have to live on the seventh floor?”

“Are you taking the stairs? You know there’s an elevator.”

“And risk this call dropping? Sure, Lochan.”

You haven’t called me _Lochan_ in one month and twenty days. I haven’t seen your smile in one month and twenty days. Elide lay her forehead against her knees. God, but I’ve missed you.

On the end other end of the line, Manon went quiet. Then, “I’m here. Apt. 712. One Elide Lochan. Stubborn shit head. My best friend. You know her?”

“Yeah.” Elide closed her eyes. “Sounds familiar.”

“Is it okay if I open the door?”

“You still have your key?”

“Try not to sound so surprised.”

Elide didn’t say anything for one beat, two beats, and then – “Manon, wait.” And she practically felt the other woman freeze. Trying to take a breath, trying to take a real breath, Elide eventually said, “He’s ….. he’s not out there? Is he?”

“No, El. Lorcan’s not.”

“Okay.” She took a breath, a real breath. “Alright.”

“You okay if I come in now?”

“Yes.” And maybe she only imagined herself whispering the word _please_.

In two separate realities, this call and the world she lived in, Elide heard a key slide through a lock, a door swing inward, and footsteps move across a creaking floor. Manon murmured, “Nice carpet, that’s new.”

“Heathcliff kept throwing up on the old one.”

“Where is the little bastard?”

“He’s – ” _oh fuck_ , Elide pressed her forehead harder against her knees, harder and harder, because what if Lorcan hurt Heathcliff, he’d swept him right off the counter she heard the thud of a body hitting the ground her body hit the ground.

“El?” Manon’s voice broke against the gray haze pouring through her, wave to a storm wall, “Keep breathing for me, just keep breathing.” _Just try, Elide_. “Are you in your room?”

Try, try, try.

“No.”

Footsteps approached the bathroom, and Elide hung suspended between two realities, unable to move. “Is it okay if I open the door?” And Elide couldn’t find the space in her head to reply. “It’s alright, El,” Manon said softly, “I’ll be here as long as you want me. I’m just going to sit down, okay, and I’ll be right here.”

“You promise?”

“I swear.”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Manon asked softly, so softly.

“For – ” Elide tried not to laugh, the joke wasn’t funny at all. “For this. For everything. I can’t even get myself to stand up.”

She heard Manon sigh and shift, head gently thunking against the wooden door. “You know … actually you wouldn’t know. Because I don’t talk about this.

After I left Iskra – I wasn’t in a good place, mentally. She twisted me. She got me to twist myself. I’d started to believe all the worst things she said about me. I just remember feeling so tired. It was Asterin who showed up at my doorstep one day and dragged me back to her place – I ended up living there for six months.

And there were all these nights when I couldn’t sleep. I was so tired, but I couldn’t sleep. Asterin would come home from DJing and she’d see my light on under the bedroom door and … she’d know. I can’t tell you how many times she sat there, on the other side of that door, and stayed with me. Sometimes we’d talk. Sometimes I’d fall asleep. But she always stayed.

None of this is your fault - not a single fucking thing. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“ _Manon_.” Elide breathed, unable to comprehend how her heart was supposed to contain everything, everything. “But I do – I have so many fucking things that I’m sorry about.”

“Not tonight, El. Lord knows we have things to talk about. But not tonight.”

“Okay.” She inhaled. She exhaled. She inhaled. “Manon? Will you talk to me about something? Anything?”

“Something.” As Manon mulled the word over in her mouth, Elide held the phone close, hearing her voice and it’s echo through the door, a wave and its aftermath. “Well, Briar finally decided to get the tattoo.”

“Isn’t she terrified of needles?”

“Oh yeah. But I think she finally got sick of Fallin giving her shit in the group chat. And Fallon. And Edda.”

“Where’d she get it?”

“Ankle. Pretty sure she just got straight up wasted afterwards.” And Manon kept talking in a low, soft voice about how the group chat blew up with photos and comments and suggestions and _very_ unhelpful suggestions. And Elide closed her eyes and listened. And she pictured Manon’s own tattoo, the thirteen crescent moons interlocking down her spine. Everyone cousin had one, marked across their bodies, binding them like constellations.

Elide breathed. There, in the flow of Manon’s voice, she felt the gray fog lifting, the weight in her lungs rising, the space to stand and slowly walk to the door. To lay her forehead against the wood. To press her palm there. To whisper, _Manon_. To turn back the lock.

Elide opened the door. And there stood Manon Blackbeak.

“Hi.” Elide breathed, at a loss for all the words she had ever known.

“ _El_.” Manon’s voice cracked, eyes taking in every inch of her. “Hi.”

+

“You want some tea?”

“Yeah. Um, thanks.” Elide curled deeper into Manon’s couch, pulling the throw blanket around her. Abraxos padded over and snuffled at her knee before hopping up next to her. Curling a hand into his thick fur, Elide murmured, “Hey there, you little bean. Missed you too.” He licked her palm, tail wagging. “Yes, I know that I’m more fun than Manon. Don’t worry, I’m here now.” She got another lick for her efforts.

“Don’t turn my dog against me, Lochan.” Manon handed her a steaming mug of chamomile, the tea she only had because Elide drank it.

Taking a sip, Elide murmured, “Why not? It’s so easy.”

Manon sat in a chair across from her, knees braced on her elbows, their bodies separated by the careful Rubicon of the coffee table.

_“What do you need?” Manon had asked, standing there outside the shitty bathroom in Elide’s shitty apartment. And Elide had no words left, none, so she hugged Manon and prayed to god that Manon would hold her back._

_She did. She held Elide for the longest time._

_“I don’t know.” Elide whispered into Manon’s shirt, the cotton soft under her cheek._

_“Do you know what you want?"_

_“Away. I want away from here.”_

_“I’ll take you anywhere.”_

_“Promise?”_

_“Swear.”_

_“Can I go home with you?”_

_“Yeah El.” Manon’s hand twitched against her back, palm smoothing over muscle and bone. “We can do that.”_

_It all became a soft haze, Elide standing there as Manon set her cold bowl of soup in the fridge, found Heathcliff so that Elide could make sure he was alright, set out more cat food for until Maureen came home from camping with Tim._

_Nothing hurt as much as Elide thought it would. Not even when Manon brought over a warm, damp washcloth and gently cleaned the blood trail off her cheek, her neck, the pool of her collar bone._

_“How bad is it?”_

_“Not pretty. But I’ve seen worse.”_

_“It doesn’t hurt yet.”_

_“That’s just the shock.”_

_Oh. Okay then. The pain will come. Perhaps when it does, I will be ready for it._

_When Manon walked towards Elide’s bedroom, she said, “Don’t bother. There’s nothing I want from there.”_

_“You sure?”_

_“Yes.”_

_So Manon draped her own coat around Elide’s shoulders as they walked out the door, the lock clicking shut behind them. Turning back for just one moment, Elide touched her phone, her wallet, her keys. Everything else in the world could burn for all she cared. The world could burn_.

“I lost you there for a minute, Lochan.”

“Hmm?” Elide blinked, blinked back to this earth as we know it. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.”

Taking another sip of tea, Elide leaned further against Abraxos’ warm, comforting weight and let her eyes drift across the apartment. So little had changed in the month and a half she’d been gone, the same half-finished paperback on the coffee table, the same picture frames on the bookshelves, the same … two wine glasses on the kitchen counter, used, an unfamiliar leather jacket tossed carelessly over a dining room table chair.

Oh fuck.

Manon had … Manon had been on a date. She’d had a date. Here.

Oh hell.

Elide’s brain played back through the evening, the phone call, that muffled conversation and a door shutting. Her hands shook as she set down the mug of tea, shook, “I should go.”

“What?” Manon replied, clearly not following the topic of conversation.

“I should go.” Elide repeated, like that clarified everything. And she couldn’t stop her gaze from skittering back to those wine glasses, that jacket, and Manon followed the motion, understanding suddenly breaking across her face.

Elide couldn’t breathe. Like a whiteout. Her head became a whiteout.

“El – ” Manon came and knelt before her, nearly touching her before pulling away, resting her palms on her own knees. “El, look at me. _Please_. Look at me.” So Elide did, because she’d always been helpless before Manon Blackbeak. “It wasn’t a date. Okay? It wasn’t a date. You remember my assistant, Sasha? She came over to discuss a work issue that I don’t _particularly_ want Matron knowing about. Given that it’s a Friday, I refused do this dead sober. I haven’t …” Manon’s hand came up, reaching for Elide before she remembered everything, everything, and lowered it again. “I haven’t been with anyone, since the wedding.”

“Oh.” Elide breathed, unable to meet Manon’s eyes. “Sorry I ruined your work thing.”

“Are you kidding.” Manon cracked a crooked smile, “In what world would I pick work over you?”

“You might not have said that a month and a half ago.”

“Yeah, well, a month and a half ago I was pretty pissed.” Manon replied evenly.

“And now?”

“I told you, we have some things to talk about.” Manon titled her head until Elide met her gaze. “But not tonight. Don’t worry about any of that tonight.”

Taking a deep breath, Elide said something that would have terrified her, except she had no room for terror left in her body. “Will you sit with me?”

Without hesitation, Manon did, and a tension Elide hadn’t realized she carried loosened as Manon wrapped her in her arms. Pressing her lips against Elide’s hair, Manon murmured, “New shampoo?”

“Honeysuckle.”

“It’s nice.”

_Lorcan said he didn’t like it. Lorcan can rot in hell._

Shifting to burrow closer to Manon, Elide groaned as a dull ache flared across her back. “ _Shit_.”

“What is it? What happened?” Manon brushed a stray hair off her face, gently cupping the back of her head.

Leaning into the touch, Elide said softly, “It just hurts.”

“Can you tell me where?”

With Manon’s lips still pressed against her hair, Manon’s perfume enveloping her wholly, Elide closed her eyes. She let herself shake. She breathed. “My wrists – we got into this fight and he grabbed me and he wouldn’t let go. I told him it hurt. I told him to leave. He wouldn’t – he, he pushed me and my back hit the counter and, I don’t know. I tried to catch myself, but my face smacked against the counter edge and I fell.”

Manon’s fingers curled at the nape of her neck, curled and held close. “El, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. You didn’t do this.”

She just shook her head, brushing a feather-light kiss against Elide’s temple. “I’m still so fucking sorry.”

“Manon … do you think Petrah would talk to me? Tomorrow? Just, like a chat I mean god knows I can’t afford to hire her but – ”

Manon gently cut Elide off, “She’ll talk to you tonight, if you want.”

“It’s nearly 10 pm. On a Friday.”

“She’ll answer.”

Elide closed her eyes. Because this is what Petrah did, what her mother’s entire law firm did. Domestic violence cases, battery, sexual assault. They were the best, the fucking best, and – it would be good to hear Petrah’s voice right now, calm and steady, the soothing warmth of her Irish accent.

“Can you call her?

And so Manon did.

+

Petrah had just finished brushing her teeth when the call came through. Walking over to her work phone, she froze for a second, because _god_.

 _Manon_.

Picking up, Petrah closed her eyes and softly said, “Please tell me that you meant to call my personal phone.”

“I didn’t. Can you talk?”

“Of course. Just give me one moment.”

Walking into her office, Petrah flicked on a lamp, the pool of amber light pushing back the darkness, and carefully shut the door. Slipping in a pair of headphones, she asked, “What’s going on, Manon?”

“I have you on speaker. El’s with me. It’s … it’s El.”

“Hi Petrah,” Elide chimed in, her voice sounding far from steady, “I think … I need some advice from you. As a lawyer.”

Oh god. Petrah lay her head on the desk, throat going tight. Not her. Not Elide. Dear lord. Petrah walked through the darkness visible every day, but it still struck her like a knife, every time. Pressing a palm against her forehead hard enough to hurt, swallowing down the fear and the grief and the fucking rage, Petrah replied in a calm, even voice, “I’m here for you, Elide. You can tell me anything. You can ask me anything.”

And so Elide did.

She told Petrah everything.

And Petrah – she took very careful notes and she listened and she supported Elide in every way she knew how. And her heart broke, cracks spiraling in from the edges, when Elide cried.

 _I just want to go home. I don’t even know what that means anymore. I don’t even have one anymore. But I just want to go home_.

She explained Elide’s legal options and pretended not to hear when Manon suggested a few less-than legal options. She listened as Elide said _no fucking cops, Petrah I swear to god one day I will explain, but no cops_. She breathed steady (lord save her, she tried to breathe steady) as Manon said that she’d already checked Elide for a concussion, that the cut on her cheek didn’t need stitches. Just sleep, Elide just need sleep. And peace. And quiet.

“Petrah,” Elide’s voice cracked, “I don’t know what I want tonight. I don’t know if I want to do anything. Legally. I don’t …. I’m just so tired.”

Keeping her voice soft and steady, the way you soothe wild horses, Petrah replied, “That’s okay, Elide. You don’t have to make any decisions tonight. You’re doing just fine. Whenever you want to talk about anything, and I do mean whenever, I am here.”

“Thank you.” Elide replied, clearly trying so fucking hard. “I’ll take the … Manon, will you help me take the pictures? Of the injuries.” Those last words came out tired, so tired.

And Manon’s voice didn’t sound quite steady as she said, “Yeah El, I will.”

“Manon, once you have them, will you email them to me?” Petrah asked.

“Of course.”

“Thank you, Petrah.” Elide said again. “I mean it. Thank you so fucking much.”

“Elide, I’m always here for you. Is there anything else you need from me?”

“No – I,” Elide took a deep breath, “I kinda feel like shit at the moment, but I’m going to be okay, I think.”

“Take care of each other tonight, you and Manon.”

“I’ve got her.” Elide said, and Petrah could hear the old fondness, an aching warmth, curling through those words.

“Right here with you, El.” And it sounded like Manon might have been smiling. For the first time in one month and twenty days, it sounded like Manon smiled.

+

Ten minutes later, a message arrived in her inbox. One new email. Six photos.

 _God_.

+

Four minutes after that, a text arrived on her personal phone.

[Asterin’s Dumbass Sister]

Thank you. For everything.

Wherever this goes, El doesn’t need to worry about the money. I’ve got her.

And that night, when Asterin came home from work 3 am late, 4 am late, she found Petrah still awake and sitting in the kitchen, staring into a cold cup of tea. Pulling Petrah close, Asterin wordlessly pressed a kiss into her hair. "Did something bad happen with work?" A nod _yes_. "Can you talk about it?" A _no_. "Alright. I'm here. I'm with you." Running her palms up and down Petrah's back, soothing and slow, Asterin held her close as Petrah tried to remember how to breathe.

+

Elide felt the shower pour over her, warm and soft, letting the water carry away what she could not carry anymore.

Just let me go where the light comes in.

She closed her eyes. She breathed. She felt … lighter, somehow. Like she had finally broken the surface of the ocean. Like she had finally emerged into the air.

The pain had hit. And it hurt her. And she could bear it.

Footsteps padded across the bathroom floor and she heard Manon say, “I’m putting a change of clothes and a towel on the counter. There’s a spare toothbrush in the first drawer on the right.” And then, when silence was the only answer, “El?”

And Elide might have started crying. She might have started laughing.

“El?” Manon walked closer, pulled back when she realized that the shower door wasn’t closed all the way. “Are you alright?”

And Elide was definitely laughing, exhausted and laughing, the water pouring down. What a fuck of a day. What a fuck of a lifetime. “I think so. I have no idea.”

“Do you – ”

“Will you come here? Fuck I know that’s weird, but – ”

Manon stepped into the shower, yoga pants and t-shirt and all. Settling next to Elide on the floor, shoulder to shoulder, she murmured, “Not the weirdest thing we’ve done, El. I remember in college I watched you streak across campus in nothing but neon body paint. You had a very interesting diagram on your back.”

“Thank you for reminding me about that.”

“I think I have a picture somewhere…”

“Don’t you dare.” Exhaling, Elide rested her head on Manon’s shoulder as the water poured through them, clean and clear. “I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you, too.”

Lifting her left hand, Elide watched the ring there flare red. A diamond is nothing but the reflection of the light passing through it. A diamond is nothing. “I don’t want to marry him. I don’t want to be engaged to him.” Twisting the ring off, she let it drop onto the tile floor. It hit with a faint _clink_ , and the sound should have been louder for all the meaning it carried. “I don’t want this anymore.”

Nudging it with her toe, watching the swirling eddies of water, Elide murmured, “Honestly, I don’t know what the fuck to do with it.”

“Well, there’s always the toilet.”

“We can’t flush a diamond ring down the toilet!”

“Why not?” Manon replied. Elide turned to look at her, and there it was, her quick sliver smile, curling like a glint of sunlight at the corner of her mouth. “It’s how we got rid of Asterin’s engagement ring from Alex.”

“Actually,” Elide murmured, “I think I have a better idea. But for tonight – ” she picked up the ring and threw it across the bathroom, not caring where it landed.

“That’s one way of handling it.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’d help you burn down the entire world if you asked me too.”

“Good thing I’ve already got practice,” she replied, resting her fingertips just a hairsbreadth from Manon’s own.

“There’s my favorite arsonist.”

“We have a weird relationship.” Elide tangled their hands together, holding close.

“We really do.” And Manon pressed a kiss, the softest kiss, to Elide’s shoulder. “I’ll let you finish up in here. The guest room’s ready if you want it, or – ”

“Can I sleep with you?”

“Yeah. Yes.” Manon pressed a second kiss to Elide’s shoulder, brief and fleeting and burning like a line of fire. “Always.”

That night, Elide Lochan fell asleep in Manon Blackbeak’s bed, their foreheads nearly touching, their hands twinned together, breath easy and slow. She didn’t dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summary of Chapter:
> 
> Elide and Lorcan get into a fight. Lorcan pushes her roommate's cat off the kitchen counter because Elide isn't paying attention to him. Elide realizes he isn't a good person and tells him to leave her apartment. He refuses. He grabs her wrists before pushing her away. She falls and hits her cheek. He leaves and she calls Manon. Manon comes and they decide to go back to her apartment. They call Petrah, who handles domestic violence cases as a lawyer, and Petrah gives her some legal advice. Elide takes a shower and while she's sitting there, Manon comes and sits next to her. Elide says she is ending the engagement and takes off her ring. The chapter ends with Elide falling asleep next to Manon in bed. 
> 
> Both Manon and Elide recognize that they have a lot of shit to talk about, but they are bound and goddamned determined to support each other. They're finding their way back to steady ground.


	11. Radiance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow it has taken me forever to get this chapter up. but look. LOOK. so much fluff you guys, there is so. much. fluff. Like minimal angst. who even knew that was possible? 
> 
> also - a huge thank you to everyone who writes comments. I am shit at responding within a normal time frame sometimes bc the world overwhelms the hell out of me, but I appreciate them so, so much.

_You are good. Most things are awful most of the time, but you’re good._

**_-_ ** _Casey McQuiston_

At 7 am, Manon’s phone started going off.

“Manon.” Elide breathed out her name, sinking back against the other woman’s body. They spooned like the teenagers they used to be, all warm, sleepy limbs and soft skin. Burrowing into a pillow, breathing in the scent of mint and spice and madness, Elide grumbled, “Who the hell?”

“Cousins.” Manon eventually replied, her lips brushing against the back of Elide’s neck. The arm draped over Elide’s stomach curled tighter, Manon’s knuckles brushing over the edge of fabric, a sliver of bare skin. Not sexual, just … intimate. Her touch, this moment, at dawn. Elide couldn’t ever remember feeling so warm.

After approximately 500 billion more texts hit Manon’s phone, Elide poked her in the thigh, quite emphatically. “ _Manon.”_

“Mhmm.”

“Tell them to go the fuck back to sleep.”

“Alright, alright.” Manon mumbled.

Pulling away, Manon’s hand fumbled across the bed, patting over blankets and the bedside table before finally, _finally,_ locating (re: smacking into) her phone. Thirty seconds later, the phone dropped to the floor and Manon returned, tangling her limbs with Elide’s once more. Still very clearly half-asleep, she murmured, “Text sent. Vibrator’s off – no, no laughing. Sleep, El. Just sleep.”

So Elide did. Eyes slipping closed, breath deep, body so inconceivably warm. She slept.

+

Coven

 _Manon_ : Elide says, and I quote, go the fuck back to sleep.

+

When Vesta woke up and checked her phone, she screamed _what_ so loudly that she scared all three pigeons roosting on her windowsill.

Ghislaine swore and fell out of bed. Like, actually fell out bed. It was humiliating.

Briar and Edda did shots. Yes, it was only ten am when they saw the text (the _first_ fucking text that Manon had sent in a month and a _fucking_ half). And no, the time of day didn’t feel particularly relevant. Bottoms up.

Imogen was busy having an actual goddamned life. AKA sleeping. AKA when she woke up, she also briefly considered vodka as substitute for sanity.

Kaya handed Thea twenty dollars and then went to take a shower. Anything to drown out the cackles of _this is why betting against me was a bad idea_. Anything.

Lin bought herself a celebratory donut. Then she remembered the three essays she had due for just one stupid college class. She bought herself another donut.

Faline and Fallon didn’t give a fuck. Well, Fallon smiled to herself. Just like, a little smile. An internal smile. Subtle-like. Faline still didn’t give a fuck (or so she said).

Sorrel was in Paris, eating nice macaroons and getting drunk off even nicer champagne. She saluted the idiots across the ocean and it was all so _very_ French.

And Asterin? Well, when Asterin eventually emerged back into the land of living, the second thing she did was check her phone. The third thing she did was shove her face into a pillow and contemplate screaming. The fourth thing she did was go the fuck back to sleep. (And the first thing? She’d woken up beside a very cuddly and very nearly naked Petrah, so you do the fucking math).

+

At 8 am, Manon started to shift away and Elide didn’t even bother to grumble – she just pulled Manon’s arm tighter around her waist and tried to drift off again into the soft sleep haze. “Sorry El,” Manon murmured against her cheek, “I need to take Abraxos out.”

“But I’m comfy.”

“I know. Do you have to go into work today?”

“Mhm-nm.” Elide, quite helpfully, translated that sound by shaking her head _no_.

“Then you go back to sleep.”

“Hmmgh.”

“That’s the spirit.” Manon’s warmth lingered in the blankets they shared even after she left, and Elide slipped into sleep, without thought, beyond dreams.

Sometime later – minutes later, hours later, a lifetime later – Elide’s eyes fluttered open, not sure how she felt about this whole returning-to-the-land-of-the-living business. Curling onto her side, Elide watched the sun rising over Miami. Everything hurt. Nothing hurt as much as she thought it would.

This is a start.

Sitting up, Elide stretched, watching the interplay of amber light across the faint bruising on her wrists. Her back ached. Her cheek itched. Her left hand, her ring hand, felt … weightless. For the first time in the longest time, she didn’t have a single regret.

Manon had, very thoughtfully, left her phone on the bedside table. 12 missed calls. Picking it up, Elide ignored them all and sent the easiest text of her fucking life:

Lorcan aka the Hotstuff

 _Elide_ : We’re done. The engagement’s over.

Don’t try to contact me again.

 _Lorcan_ : Babe please let’s talk

 _Elide_ : **Blocked**

Pulling her hair into a messy-as-hell ponytail, Elide stumbled her way over to the bedroom window, the Atlantic ocean pouring out before her in an endless line of blue fire. Take a deep breath. Take another deep breath. She felt – like clear water. Her mind felt like a pool of clear water. At last. Elide stayed there for a long while, just breathing.

That is, until a furry dog head bumped against her hand, looking for pets or treats (or both, please both). “Hey Abraxos,” Elide leaned down and pressed a kiss against his soft fur, “Where’s your mom?” He just blinked at her mournfully, still _really_ hoping for a treat. “I’m sorry, I don’t have anything on me, but let’s see if we can’t rustle something up.” Crouching down, Elide cradled his head in her hands, lightly scratching his ears and murmuring, “What Manon doesn’t know won’t hurt her.” So Elide had a four-legged entourage as she wandered into the kitchen, still rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

“Morning El.” Manon said softly, pouring herself a cup of coffee from behind the kitchen counter.

“Morning.” Elide replied just as softly, coming over to settle on one of the bar stools. “What time is it?”

“Nearly ten.”

“Oh, shit. Sorry I slept so late.”

“Don’t be.” Manon’s eyes flickered up to Elide’s face, then darted away. Flicker, and away. “You want some tea? And I grabbed croissants while walking Abraxos. I don’t really, uh, have any other food at the moment.”

“Tea sounds great.” It knifed into Elide – too fast for her to brace for the blow – how Manon _knew_ her. Knew that she never drank coffee first thing in the morning. Knew that she liked Earl Gray. Knew to let it steep for exactly three minutes. _God, but I’ve missed you_. Except she didn’t know how to say any of that out loud, so instead she accepted the cup of tea with a murmured _thanks_ and ate a croissant and it was quiet. Manon just stood there and nursed her cup of coffee, watching Elide without watching her, flicker and away, flicker and away.

When there was no more tea and no reasons left to linger, Elide took a final sip of air. Just for a reason to linger. And then even that reason ran out. The sound of her mug meeting the marble counter cracked through the morning like a gun shot.

“I guess – ” Elide swallowed and tried again, unable to meet Manon’s eyes, “I guess I should get going.”

“What?” Manon set her own mug down, running a hand through her sheet of slivery hair, “I mean – if that’s what you want?”

“No, I just thought, you know, I kinda intruded on your life and …”

“It’s not quite intruding, I brought you here …”

“And I must be bothering you …”

“You’re not bothering me.” Manon’s last sentence hung in the air between them like a live wire. Sighing and take a long drink of coffee, Manon visibly pulled herself back together and said, “El. Look – if you want to go home, or to Aelin’s, or … fuck anywhere, I’ll take you. But don’t leave here because you think I want you to go.” Manon’s eyes flicked up to meet her own and this time they didn’t flicker away. “I don’t.”

And Elide … Elide toyed with the handle of her mug and she smiled and at long last, she met Manon’s gaze. “Even after I completely gate crashed your Friday night?”

That got Manon to laugh, a quick, bright thing, “Elide Lochan, you gate crashed my life when I was eight years old. There I was, just waiting for my turn on the swing and in came this little spitfire, pulling on my hair. I seem to remember you got to play on the swing first. Everything else since then has been inevitable.”

“What can I say?” Elide shrugged, grinning at the memory, “You looked like an easy mark. A real softie.”

“Only for you, Lochan.” Manon reached over and gently bumped their fists together. “Tell me El, honestly. What do you want?”

“Can I stay? For a little while longer?”

“Always.”

+

While Manon took a shower, Elide threw a treat to Abraxos (because why the hell not) and then wandered through the open bathroom door. Laying flat on the cool tile floor, Elide said, “Hey Blackbeak, how do you feel about the zoo?”

“Jesus!” She heard Manon bump into the wall in surprise. “Way to give me a fucking heart attack.”

“Sorry, should I go – ” Elide sat up, suddenly terrified that she’d misread their dynamic completely.

“No, fuck, you’re fine,” Manon laughed, “I just need to put a bell on you or something.”

“Kinky.”

Manon slid the shower door open just far enough to flick water at Elide’s face, “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but please change the topic and go back to talking about the zoo.”

Laying back down, Elide let her eyes slip shut. “I’m so glad you asked. So. How do you feel about the zoo?”

Pausing before replying, Manon eventually said, “There’s no right answer to this question, is there?”

“Nope! Because if you say you love the zoo, then we’re going to the zoo. If you say you don’t like the zoo, then I will go to the zoo. By myself. And be real sad. And text you. About how sad I am. The whole time."

Audibly exhaling, Manon replied, “Alright you human raccoon – go steal my clothes and get changed. I guess we’re going to the fucking zoo. Oh, and eat that last croissant or Abraxos will.”

Elide froze in the bathroom doorway. “Umm.”

“He already did, didn’t he?”

“Yep.”

“Well fuck.”

“Enjoy your shower!”

“Out.”

So Elide scrammed, but only because she wanted to dig through Manon’s closet unsupervised. There was this one plaid skirt that she fucking loved … haha! Found it. Now – where was her favorite black turtleneck, the one that Manon always (and unsuccessfully) tried to hide? Three minutes later, Elide uncovered it from between a neon blue blazer and an ugly Christmas sweater.

Nice try Blackbeak, but better luck next time.

Slipping on Manon’s ridiculously nice clothes and using her ridiculously expensive perfume, Elide smiled at herself in the bedroom mirror, a twisted, sharp, _bright_ thing. She didn’t wear any makeup. A bruise spread across her right cheek like an abstract impressionism painting, deep purple tinging into greens and greys. The thin cut was already starting to scab over. Not pretty. Not the worst thing she’d ever seen.

Holding her head high, Elide met her own gaze in the mirror without flinching. She would not hide. Not for him. Not ever again.

+

Lorcan hated the zoo. So they never went. Which, fuck him. Who hates the zoo?

+

Exactly two hours later, Elide stood with Manon in front of the penguin enclosure. She leaned against the railing, staring dreamy-eyed at the little waddlers. “Shhh,” Elide hushed as Manon opened her mouth, “You’ll scare off the babies. Look at the lil babies.”

Manon leaned in close and Elide could hear the smile in her voice, “Don’t you think saying _look at the little babies_ would, I don’t know, scare the babies.”

“I said ‘lil babies’ Blackbeak. And stop being such a killjoy.”

Twenty minutes later, Manon said, “Are we … still looking at penguins.”

“Yes.”

“Okay then.”

Five more minutes passed. “El, the penguins are cute. But – ”

“Penguins.”

Sigh. A long sigh. Manon resigned herself to a penguin-filled purgatory, leaning back against the enclosure railing and tucking her hands into the pockets of her leather jacket. Her shoulder nearly touched Elide’s. Nearly, nearly. “Penguins.” Two more minutes and – Manon leaned closer, “Is that … are you wearing my perfume?”

“Yes? Do you mind? It’s just it smells really nice, and – ”

“No, no.” Manon cut her off before that sentence could waste another word. “I don’t care. I, uh, happen to agree. It does smell nice.” She cleared her throat and stared intently at the penguins.

“Well thanks.” Elide couldn’t resist flashing Manon a smile and giving a little twirl on her good foot. “Also, I found the plaid skirt. And my favorite turtleneck.”

“Yes, I noticed that.”

“Can I steal it? Permanently?”

“No.”

“You sure?”

“Pretty damn.”

“Okay. Cool.”

“You’re still going to try and steal it aren’t you?”

“Shit yes, Blackbeak. And I thought you were the brains of this operation.”

“I’ve been staring at penguins for forty minutes. _Penguins_ , El. They’re too incompetent to fly. They can’t even _walk_ properly.”

“Hush. Don’t insult Jethro where he can hear you. He’s a sensitive soul.”

Manon snorted, “Ten more minutes, El. I can stand this for ten more minutes.”

“Deal.”

At the five-minute mark, Elide found her gaze slipping over to Manon, the line of her profile, the baby hairs that slipped free from her braid to flutter in the wind. She looked … tired. Drawn. Like too little skin stretched over too much bone. A careful brush of concealer couldn’t quite cover the purple circles imprinted beneath her eyes.

“What is it, El?” Manon asked softly.

“Nothing.”

“Liar.”

“Fine. You look … tired.”

Manon sighed, “Yeah, well, I haven’t been doing a lot of sleeping.”

“Me neither.” Elide replied, and for a moment, just a moment, she nearly tangled her hand with Manon’s, their fingertips brushing together. “Last night was the first time in a long time.”

“Nightmares?”

“Constantly.”

At that, Manon really did take Elide’s hand. “Well that’s _shit_.”

“Too fucking true.” Elide smiled, lightly squeezing Manon’s hand and glancing over her face once again. “You haven’t been eating well either, have you?”

“What gave it away?” Manon laughed softly, but the sound wasn’t really funny.

“Knowing you. During college finals I practically had to sit on you before you’d remember to stop and have a protein bar.”

“Don’t worry, Asterin has taken over that pleasant task.”

“Lucky her.” Elide muttered. “She’s throwing them at you until you eat one, isn’t she?”

“Yes. And she’d not too careful about where she aims either.”

“I always knew I liked her more than you.”

“Shut up, El.” Manon lightly bumped their shoulders together.

“Whatever, Manon. First thing tomorrow morning we’re going to the grocery store and don’t you dare bitch at me when I buy you healthy bread. I checked and your fridge looks like something out of a zombie apocalypse.” And then Elide froze when her brain caught up with what her mouth was saying. “Umm, that is of course, if you want to, I mean we don’t have to, I don’t know why I assumed I was staying with you again…”

“El. _El_. You’re rambling. Badly. I told you this morning, you can always stay with me. Even if that means I have to eat your weird health bread.”

“Oh. Okay. Good. Because … um … I would. Like to stay. Tonight.”

“Good.” Manon parroted back at her, smiling like she was lighting up from the inside out. Her eyes turned bright as amber, illuminated. “Now, if I promise to buy you dinner, can we please leave these penguins?”

“Dumplings.”

Manon’s eyes narrowed. “Deal. But we’re going to the place near my apartment. I need alcohol.”

“I get an extra dumpling every time you speed.”

“I hope you’re fucking hungry.”

Elide was, in fact, fucking hungry. Good thing, because it ended up being a lot of dumplings (the speed limit is not a _suggestion_ Manon). Curling into the low booth at the restaurant, Elide sipped sake and felt it go straight to her head. That’s why her cheeks were flushed and the world felt slightly too warm. It had nothing to do with Manon, sitting across from her and getting a little tipsy too, unwinding like she so rarely ever unwound.

The world thinks it knows you, Manon Blackbeak, but I see clearly.

“Here, try this one.” Manon held out a dumpling between her chopsticks. Without knowing why she did it, (that's a lie, but the truth is rocky territory and we’re far from solid ground), Elide leaned forward and took it with her teeth. Manon’s pupils blew black, just a little, just enough for something in Elide’s core to clench white-hot.

Don’t think about.

(She was having a very hard time not thinking about it).

Then the dumpling worked it’s magic and Elide closed her eyes with a groan. “Umm, fuck, that’s really good.”

“Um. Yeah. Yes.” Elide opened her eyes in time to see Manon blink and shake her head like a dog. The sight was oddly endearing.

“Do you have more?”

“It’s like I’m eating with a raccoon. A hungry, feral raccoon.”

“I take that as compliment. Fork ‘em over. And we should probably order more.”

“By ‘we’ you mean ‘me’?”

 _Yes Manon_ is what Elide would have said if her mouth wasn’t full of stolen dumpling. Manon ordered more.

By 9 pm, the restaurant had gone quiet and the sake had well and truly suffused Elide’s system. Turning the small cup in her hand, watching light glint through glass, Elide murmured, “He called you a dyke, you know? Last night when we were fighting. A fucking dyke.”

Manon sighed, a muscle working in her jaw. “El, I’ve been called much worse.”

Elide just shook her head, a little frustrated, “You don’t understand. I _know_ you’ve heard worse. But it’s wrong, and Lorcan acted like it was okay. He also basically called me a whore, because you know, bisexuals just can’t keep it in their pants. Which, _fuck him_. Just fuck him. He’s lucky I didn’t shoot him like I shot Vernon. The next man who tries to invalidate my sexuality, I fucking swear to god …”

Taking another sip of sake, Elide tipped her head back and let the warmth burn out the darkness. “It was when he pushed Heathrow off the counter that I fucking snapped. I don’t know, Manon, it’s like I’d never really seen him before. You know? I was standing there, looking at the man I said I’d marry, and I didn’t know him at all. It's over, by the way, our _engagement._ I texted him this morning. I should never have agreed to marry him in the first place.

God, I’ve made so many mistakes. So many fucking mistakes.”

Watching Elide carefully, so carefully, Manon reached out and interlaced her right hand with Elide’s left. “El, what happened last night was _not_ your fault. You know that, right?”

“I know that. _I know_. But the shit I said to you, the morning of the wedding. That’s on fucking me.”

Squeezing their hands together, Manon waited until Elide met her gaze. “Yeah? Well I remember being a real bitch. I remember hurting you. We’ll … we can talk about this whenever you’re ready. Until then, I just want you to know that I’m so fucking sorry.”

Reaching out, Elide traced her thumb across Manon’s cheekbone for a breathless span of time. “Me too.”

“ _El_.” Manon closed her eyes at Elide’s touch, only opening them again when her hand dropped away. “Promise me something? If you ever start to worry that it was your fault, what Lorcan did, come find me, okay? Come talk to me.”

“Pinky promise.”

“That’s my girl.” And Manon lifted Elide’s knuckles to her lips, brushing the lightest kiss across her skin. Elide couldn’t breathe. She wanted Manon to touch her again. She wanted to drown in the sensation forever. “You alright?” Manon asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“Perfect.” Elide replied, unable to keep herself from smiling, how could she dim the fucking sun ignited inside her chest? “Just a little tired.”

“But El, it’s not even 10 pm. The night is young.” Manon replied, eyes glinting with mischief.

“Bed, Blackbeak, I want to go to bed.”

“ _Fine_. And you call me the killjoy. Let’s go to sleep.”

That night, it was barely a discussion, whether Elide would sleep in Manon’s bed. She hovered at the bedroom doorway, not quite sure how to ask for _this_ , when Manon tugged back the covers and raised an eyebrow – invitation and offering. And Elide was done fucking waiting. Snuggling under the blankets beside Manon, she laid her head against the other woman’s shoulder, murmuring, “You smell nice."

“I smell like the zoo.” Manon replied, resting her cheek against Elide’s hair.

“Mhmmm.”

“Go to sleep, El.” Manon settled one arm over Elide's stomach, holding her close. Laying there, so inconceivably warm, Elide fell asleep and it felt like a miracle. Because she didn’t dream.


	12. Exaltation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow y'all, sometimes I kick a chapter's butt, sometimes a chapter kicks my butt. Today it was very much so latter. I hope you enjoy, because in the immortal words of Amelia Mignonette Thermopolis Renaldi, princess of Genovia: "Well. This is as good as it's gonna get."

_I have a knife. I have my sword. I did not come across the world to lose you now._

**_-_ ** _The Princess Bride_

That morning, so early that dawn hadn’t quite broken across the sky, Elide lay awake. She watched the last traces of moonlight paint all the world to sliver, slipping over Manon’s still and quiet face like a sheet of soft water.

She ached. A shiver ran up her spine. The ache remained.

When the sky shifted into a pearly gray, pink at the sunrise’s edges, Manon came awake, her eyes blinking open slowly, so slowly. “Morning El,” she whispered, voice gravelly with sleep.

“Morning,” Elide whispered back, eyes tracing over every inch of Manon, the line of her jaw, the place where the curve of her waist met the blanket’s rumpled edge.

Reaching out to gently tuck a stray hair behind Elide’s ear, Manon asked, “What are you doing up?”

“Thinking.”

“You should try sleeping.”

“I can’t.” Elide replied quietly, honestly.

As her fingers trailed through Elide’s hair, Manon murmured, “What’s keeping you awake?” And at that touch, Elide’s eyes slipped closed, her entire body thrumming with an energy that she dared not name or tame.

“How jellyfish swim without a brain.”

“You’re funny.” Manon tugged lightly on a lock of hair. “What’s up? Really.”

“You won’t like it.” Elide rolled onto her back, staring into the ceiling instead of Manon’s amber eyes.

“Oh yeah? Try me,” Manon replied, shifting to prop herself up on one elbow. Almost hesitantly, she rested a palm against Elide’s ribs and the touch burned through her body like a live wire. “Anything, El,” she said softly, “we can talk about anything.”

“I – I keep wondering something.” Elide reached down and blindly pressed Manon’s hand harder against her chest, breath and muscle and bone. My heart, my heart. “The same question. Over and over. After everything I said, after everything I did …

Manon – why did you answer my call?”

And Manon took in a deep breath, one that she didn’t quite exhale. The heart is a lonely hunter and it betrays me at every turn. Pounding and pounding and pounding. Maybe, here in the dawn light, it’s time to be honest at last. “Because I love you.”

“ _Oh_.”

+

“I think we should have just gone back to the zoo.”

“That’s one option.” Manon replied, and Elide didn’t have to see her face to know that her lips were quirked into a smile.

Nearly brushing their fingertips together, Elide came to a stop. She just … stopped. “Really. What if we went back to the zoo and never left?”

“Well, we’d get arrested. And we’d probably end up in one of those _Only in Florida_ news segments. But again, it’s an option.” Nudging Elide’s shoulder, Manon asked, “What’s going on?”

_They hadn’t talked about it._

_Because I love you._

_Elide’s heart stopping in her chest for a beat, the frozen terror of Manon’s body, the air turning electric between them. Nobody moved. Not until Elide’s heart kick-started back into double time and Manon pulled away and Elide grabbed her hand_ _–_

_“Where are you going?”_

_“El, I – I don’t want to make things harder. For either of us.”_

_“But I don’t want you to leave.” Every inch of her body thrumming and thrumming and thrumming. “Do you?”_

_“No.” The longest exhale. “I don’t.”_

_“Then stay, please stay.”_

_They fell asleep like that, just inches apart, nearly breathing the same air. They hadn’t talked about it_.

“I…” She stared down the tree lined street, sidewalk painted in a million flecks of light as a soft breeze blew through the leaves. It was a beautiful morning. It was beautiful day. “I shouldn’t feel terrified. It’s just Sunday brunch, you know? It’s just family."

It’s just a bruise splattered across her cheekbone like a modernist painting.

It’s just 48 hours from fucking catastrophe.

Elide curled her free hand into a fist – she didn’t want Manon to see it shaking.

“Hey,” Manon took a step closer, testing the unspoken truce that burned between them like an electrical current, “You want to get the hell out of here, we get the hell out of here. I’d joyride across all of Florida with you, Thelma and Louise style.”

Elide managed a small smile. “I’m pretty sure Thelma and Louise bolted for Mexico.”

“Now look who’s being no fun.”

“You, Blackbeak, it’s always you.”

“Damn straight.”

Take a deep breath in. “Okay.” Let a long breath out. “I got this. Sure they’re all going to freak out and Aelin will probably try to commit murder and we really will be fleeing to Mexico before sundown. But it’s totally fine. No worries."

“That’s the spirit.” Manon’s hand twitched, like she nearly reached for Elide, like her body held such restless hunger. “Fugitive is a good look on you.”

And Elide would be a liar and a sinner if she said that her eyes didn’t slip closed for a long moment, the longest breath. _You make me understand why moths yearn for flame._ “Right.” Her eyes flicked open, because it was that or fall to pieces. “Let’s do this. Rhoe will give me so much shit if I’m late.”

Together, they walked once more through the neighborhood of their childhood, the quiet streets and waving trees, reminiscing and laughing and _the time you climbed that fence and fell and broke both your arms – you freaking idiot. Lighting fireworks in the middle of the street on Fourth of July and setting Mrs. Pugalapesci’s porch on fire. Sneaking beers into the garden at your house and laying too close and looking too long at the stars_. _I remember everything, everything._

Elide finally came to a stop at the driveway to Rhoe and Evalin’s home. “Well. Here we are.”

“You can do this, El. Besides, I’m scarier than Aelin and just look at us.”

Elide snorted in laughter, because pushing Manon’s buttons was the light of her life and the joy of her days. “Sure Blackbeak.”

“Ouch Lochan. That hurts.” Manon pressed hand to her heart, pretending to look wounded and only failing a little.

“Whatever. Get out of here, you drama queen.”

Manon paused, hesitating and Elide knew – _because I love you, because we haven’t talked about this, because we’re dancing on the edge of a knife and that means everybody gets cut._ So Elide asked what Manon maybe couldn’t dare to, not here, not now, “See you tonight?”

And Manon smiled like someone flicked on the sun inside her chest. “Who else am I going to watch _The Bachelorette_ with?”

“Nobody else appreciates Chris Harrison the way I do.”

Giving Elide a small nod and a two-fingered salute, Manon turned and walked back down the street, the sunlight breaking through her hair like a halo.

“Thank you,” Elide murmured in reply, soft enough that only the breeze rustling in the trees could hear.

Walking up the driveway, Elide tried to set the morning to one side, tried to give herself some goddamned space, but her brain betrayed her and old memories rushed in like the tide. Suddenly, she was just a child bolting out of her Uncle Vernon’s car at the start of every summer, ready spend 3 glorious months with the Galathynius’. Suddenly she was a teenager again and the dark years came and she didn’t see Aelin’s family at all and then … it was the long night. The fire. The gunshots. That longest night.

Elide stopped dead and stared at a memory. Painted right here, in the air, in the back of her eyes, burned like a scar. Just shadows.

Just – she’d only been fifteen. On the longest night. Flame. Gunsmoke. Catastrophe. She didn’t even know how to drive. But she’d made her way here, somehow, by some miracle from a god who only ever listened once. She’d fallen out of the driver’s seat, right onto the pavement, bleeding and smiling, ignited in light when the sun came up.

She had been … “Elide!”

She turned. There stood Aelin in the doorway of her parent’s home, grinning and waving and – the grin slid off her face, splintering clean into heartbreak. “ _Elide?_ ”

All in all, brunch could have gone worse. Well. Rhoe cried and Evalin literally hugged her for fifteen minutes straight and Aelin really didn’t look like she was joking when she said that she’d carve off Lorcan’s balls and Rowan went quiet, scary quiet. And then they drank mimosas and ate too many pancakes and maybe Elide started crying when Aelin pressed a kiss to her temple and maybe that was alright.

Elide held onto her sister’s hand and had faith.

“Okay you three, out of my kitchen.” Evalin fanned at her eyes (nope, not crying, definitely not crying), “Go play those videos games that rot your precious brains and leave me to criticize how Rhoe does the dishes in peace.”

They might have been nearing thirty years old, but that didn’t change the way they bolted out of there like freaking _teenagers_. That’s how Elide ended up annihilating Rowan at Mario Kart. After the third loss in a row, he glared at her, glared at Aelin ( _H_ _ey! What did I do?_ ), and then grumbled, “I’m going to help Rhoe in the garden.”

“Sure thing hon! Make that good impression on the parents.” Aelin called after him, grinning like the devil.

“Get married they said. It will be fun they said.” Rowan muttered in reply.

“I love you too, honey bunches!”

“Ew.” Elide threw a pillow at her head, “You’re gross.”

“Your objection is noted and ignored.”

“I don’t think that’s how being a lawyer works.”

“Whatever _CSI Miami_. Pick up that controller and prepare to get your ass kicked.”

Somewhere deep into the fifth game, Aelin _casually_ asked, “So, since, you know, Friday, have you been – are you at your apartment? Because you know you can always, and I mean always, stay with me.”

Preemptively wincing, Elide cleared her throat and eventually responded, “Umm. I’ve actually been staying with … Manon.”

“Blackbeak?!”

“Yes, Aelin! Thank you for shouting that loud enough for the astronauts on the International Space Station to hear you.”

“No problem.” Aelin replied weakly, scratching at her forehead. “You. Manon. I thought …?”

“Yeah,” Elide agreed wholeheartedly with that pause, “We’re … it’s still a little messy. But we’re okay. We’re good, actually. It’s been good. With her.”

_Your body twined around my body in bed. Your breath against my skin. Your heartbeat – I can feel your heart beating._

_Please stay._

“Okay.” Aelin glanced at Elide from the corner of her eye and clearly bit back approximately a billion questions. One slipped through that wall of self-restraint. “Is she being nice? Because if not, I swear to god, I will – ”

“Linny!” Elide laughed, cutting Aelin off before she could make a promise that would come with the added benefit of a hefty prison sentence. “She’s – Manon is lovely. _Honestly_. So please no murder.”

“Alright! Alright!” Aelin held up her hands in surrender. “Chilling with the murdering. _For now_.”

“I heard that.” Elide shot back.

“Whatever. Wanna go make pizza rolls?”

“Oh good god yes.”

Pizza rolls turned out to be a tragic mistake. And not because Elide always managed to burn her tongue. No, this shit show comes to you courtesy of Elide shooting herself right in the goddamned metaphorical foot. Cue scene:

Evalin, entering the kitchen to give Elide her fourth hug of the day: Mhm, it’s good to see you, sweetheart. And you smell nice – is that a new perfume?

Elide, laughing: No, this is Manon’s. That’s what we get for sharing a bed.

Aelin: What?

Evalin: What?

Elide: Oh shit.

The kitchen went very quiet for a very long minute. Elide wanted to sink into the floor and possibly change her name, dye her hair, and move to a new continent. Finally, Aelin managed to find her voice, and after opening and closing her mouth a few times, said, “Are you two … sleeping together?”

“What?” Elide looked from Aelin to Evalin to Aelin, “No, no, no. I mean yes technically, but not like, no. No.”

A mother to her very core, Evalin only needed to blink rapidly a few times before pulling herself together and saying, “Well honey, I’m very happy for you. Just remember the best sex is safe sex. Don’t forget to get tested. I think I have a pamphlet from Planned Parenthood …”

“Mom!”

“Evalin!”

Both Elide and Aelin looked at her like the end of the world couldn’t come fast enough. Evalin just shrugged, riffling through a drawer. “Please girls, we’re all adults here. Sex is perfectly natural. Actually, you know what, I think that pamphlet is upstairs …” and she wandered out of the kitchen, leaving two thoroughly embarrassed grown-ass women behind her.

As soon as Evalin’s footsteps sounded on the stairs, Aelin whirled on Elide, “You’re doing it with Blackbeak?! And you didn’t tell me!”

“No! Jesus!” Her face now approximately the same color as an actual brick, Elide pinched the bridge of her nose and prayed for salvation from any god that was listening. “We’re not … _having sex_.” She bit those last two words out. “I’m just – I am sleeping in her bed, alright? It helps, with the nightmares and stuff. So just, chill your tits.”

_We just sleep curled together. You just love me. I just begged you not to go._

Aelin, the queen of dramatics until her dying fucking day, walked over to the freezer and grabbed an ice cube, shoving it straight into her bra.

“That cannot be comfortable.”

“It’s really not. But my tits are now chilled and you are really going to enjoy the coming conversation.”

“I am?” Elide replied weakly.

“Mhmm.” Aelin pulled four beers out of the fridge. “Alright. Front porch swing, now.”

Elide was not given a choice. Elide was frog marched out to the front porch. Elide was handed a beer. Elide, having a modicum of self-preservation instincts, drank it all.

“That’s my girl.” Aelin patted her shoulder, downing her own beer like a woman one single second from losing her mind. “Okay, now I can’t believe I’m asking this – in fact, we are both going to forget that this little discussion _ever_ happened – but like, you did just drop the conversational equivalent of _bomb_.”

Elide’s really witty retort consisted of starting on another beer.

Aelin, as the world’s most annoying sister, prompted her, “You know? That you’re sleeping in Manon’s bed?”

“It’s not what you think! We’re just … friends.”

“Yeah, okay, so that’s the question.” Clearing her throat, Aelin heroically found the strength within to carry on. “See – it’s not that you can’t share a bed as friends. Totally possible. Totally legitimate. I’m just … wondering. Is it just as friends? Is that you and Manon?”

“I – ” Elide opened her mouth. Elide closed her mouth. Elide remembered everything, everything.

_Dancing with you the night it all ended, your palm against my spine, forever and ever amen._

_You kissed my knuckles and I thought that I could drown in the sensation forever._

_I woke up intertwined with you, the world gone to gold, and I couldn’t ever remember feeling so warm._

_God, but I’ve missed you._

_Because I love you._

_My god._

“Um.” Elide scratched at her cheek. She glanced down the street. She looked hard at the porch railing. “You know this could really use a new paint job – ”

“Elide!”

“Okay, Jesus, go get another ice cube already.” When Aelin didn’t move, Elide sighed and braced her elbows against her knees, watching the wide world spin. Maybe it’s time to be honest at last. “You can’t tell this to anyone, Linny. I mean it.”

Holding out her right pinky, Aelin looked straight into Elide’s eyes. “Sister swear.” They shook on that childhood vow, an unbreakable promise.

So finally, Elide found a way to say softly, softly, “She told me that she loved me. This morning. We were laying together in bed and I asked why she answered my call and Manon said _I love you_. And then I asked her to stay – she went to leave and I asked her to stay.”

Leaning forward, Aelin slowly exhaled between her teeth, “Well damn.”

“Yeah.”

Nudging their shoulders together, Aelin asked, “What about you, Ellie? How do you feel?”

“You mean – do I love her?” Elide shook her head, staring out at the dying sun. “I … I don’t know what I am. But I can’t get her words out of my head. She touches me and I don’t ever want her to stop. It’s like I can’t breathe. I think …” _I used to believe that I was over this, over everything, over Manon. I had you and held you and pushed you away and now I think_ … “I don’t ever want to lose her again.”

“Well then hold onto that. Whatever else comes next. Hold on to that.”

+

They hadn’t talked about it. They’d survived an entire episode of _The Bachelorette_ and were halfway through a bottle of wine and they hadn’t talked about it.

Following Manon into the kitchen, Elide hopped up onto the counter. I have done everything wrong but you. We were never a mistake. Take in a breath, and, “Hey Manon?”

“Hmm?” Manon half-turned, pouring really shitty red wine into really expensive glasses. Her hair swung in a messy ponytail and she wore ratty, old sweatpants that used to be Elide’s, a thin white t-shirt hugging the line of her shoulders. For a solid moment, Elide lost her thoughts. Like, _all_ her thoughts. A girl couldn’t be expected to breathe around a thing like this.

Good goddamn.

All night, Elide had been caught in the memories –

_silvery hair and a dawn sky, amber eyes glinting in the half-light, because I love you_

_pressing warm hands against her chest and praying for deliverance, for exaltation_

_and –_

Snap out of it. Come back. Return to the land of the living if you please.

Gathering herself together as best she could, Elide carried on, “About this morning.”

“Yes. About that.” Manon very carefully set the wine bottle down. Elide didn’t blame her – her hands shook too.

In a quiet sort of voice, hesitant and uncertain but fucking trying anyway, Elide said, “You told me that you love me.” The words flared to life between them once more, fire and the flame. “But Aelin loves me. And her parents love me. So what does that mean?”

“I – _fuck_.” Manon ran her hands through her hair. She closed her eyes. She chose her words very carefully. Hesitant. Uncertain. Fucking trying. “I don’t love you like a friend. And I don’t love you like family. I love you like …. I want you. I want to be _with_ you,” she finally breathed out, shoulders curling in around her body.

“There’s my silver lining.” Elide whispered. Manon’s head snapped up, and something about the shock in her eyes gave Elide the heart to carry on. “I mean, I can’t lie to you Manon. I’m a mess and I … I still feel like I’m so fucking far from solid ground.” Now it was Elide’s turn to close her eyes and bow her head. I’m not the praying kind, yet here we stand.

“You’re my best friend. I think you’re a hell of a lot more than that because you light me up from the inside out and you touch me and it’s like I can’t breathe and – ” Elide pressed her knuckles to her lips, teeth against skin, and tried to inhale, “How could I treat you like a rebound? When you’re …fuck. _Everything_.” She gestured to the wide world, the gravity binding them together, as if that could explain anything, everything. “God, I’m sorry.”

Walking forward, Manon came to stand between Elide’s knees, her movements careful and slow. “Can I touch you?” At Elide’s nod, Manon ran knuckles down the line of her jaw and gently cupped her cheek, like cradling bone china. “What do you have to be sorry for?”

“Because I can’t say it back.” Elide bit on her lip, blindsided by the tear rolling down her cheek. “Not yet.”

“ _I love you_.”

She nodded into Manon’s palm, and another tear fell, another and another. Pressing their foreheads together, Manon asked in a voice so quiet that only Elide could have heard it, “Do you want to? One day?”

“ _Yes_.”

Manon’s breath turned ragged and she pressed her lips against Elide’s cheek, nearly kissing her. Nearly, nearly. “Then there’s my silver lining.”


	13. Gloriana

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning: THIS CHAPTER IS MOTHERFORKING CUTE. Tags promised fluff. I deliver the fluff. Life is shitty enough right now without a sad fanfic. I hope you enjoy this chapter, and, whatever you're life looks like right now, that you can find a little space to breathe.

_I have never been to Japan. I have never been to India, or to Morocco, or to Germany, or to most of the places Arthur Less has traveled over the past few months. I have never climbed an ancient pyramid. I have never kissed a man on a Paris rooftop. I have never ridden a camel. I have taught a high school English class for the best part of a decade, and graded homework every night, and woken up early in the morning to plan my lessons, and read and reread Shakespeare, and sat through enough conferences and meetings for even those in Purgatory to envy me. I have never seen a glowworm. I do not, by any reckoning, have the best life of anyone I know. But what I am trying to tell you (and I only have a moment), what I have been trying to tell you this whole time, is that from where I sit, the story of Arthur Less is not so bad._

_Because it is also mine. That is how it goes with love stories._

\- Less

**Day 1:**

“ _Elide_.” Manon groaned, thunking her head down onto the kitchen countertop. “Why do we only have oat milk.”

Wandering out the bedroom, Elide adjusted her hair into a work-functional bun and said, “Because, repeat after me – ”

“Yes, yes, I know. _The American dairy industrial complex is an environmental travesty_.” Manon parroted, rolling her eyes. “But it tastes like cough syrup.”

“It does not.” Elide took a sip from Manon’s glass. “Okay, wow, yes it does. We will not be getting this brand again."

“I have five hours of meetings with Matron today. _Five_. I can’t survive that on this shit.” Manon grumbled, still not lifting her head off the counter.

Reaching out to run her fingers against the fanned edges of Manon’s hair, _delicately, delicately_ , Elide eventually found the mental bandwidth to reply, “I really can’t sympathize. Today is puppy adoption day. But you have fun facing down the old crone. Go make an intern buy you coffee – maybe the sugar overload will kill you halfway through the first meeting.”

Turning her head just enough to glare at Elide, Manon said, “Why are you such a pleasant person?”

“Why Manon, I learned all my people skills from you.”

“Fuck off.”

“Drink your oat milk.”

“Maybe Abraxos will drink it for me.” Manon stood up, ruffling her hair so that it cascaded down her back like water, like silk. The contrast of it against the cerulean blue of Manon’s suit did … tragic things to Elide’s higher processing. She froze for a solid four seconds, just staring. “El?” Manon stared back, eyebrow raised.

“Right.” Elide grabbed her bag and acted like she even remotely had her shit together. “Work. Gotta go. To work.” At the door, at the lock, her hand paused, hovering in mid-space. She turned, hesitant, uncertain, trying, “See you tonight?”

“I’m counting on it.” Manon smiled back, eyes lit up to burnished amber, to gold.

“Okay. Um, good. I’ll by more oat milk.” And then Elide was gone to the sound of Manon laughing and swearing behind her.

**Day 3:**

A curious thing had happened to Lorcan Salvaterre. His world had gone empty, overnight.

All of his friends unfollowed him on social media. None of his friends asked to hang out. Hell, no one talked to him _at all_. On Monday the silence was strange, on Tuesday it was weird, and by Wednesday it was pissing him the fuck off.

Only three of his teammates would meet his eyes during practice that day. This did not comfort Lorcan, because they looked like they wanted to murder him. After practice, Connall slammed Lorcan against a locker so hard that his teeth rattled. No one intervened. “You piece of shit,” Connall hissed, “You fucking piece of shit. My sister’s ex used to hit her – you think that’s cool? Huh? You get off on that? I hear one word from you, one fucking word, and I punch out your teeth.” He did put a fist into Lorcan’s stomach, just to make a point.

When the rest of the team filed out, when it was just Lorcan and Rowan left, Lorcan pushed off the locker and got right into the other man’s space. “I know it was you. What the fuck did you tell them?”

Rowan did not look concerned about this pissed-off Lorcan Salvaterre. Cracking his knuckles in a casual-yet-menacing manner, Rowan eventually replied, “First of all, shut up. Second of all, don’t talk again. Third of all, Elide is my family. And even if she wasn’t – I’d find a way to burn you alive for what you did.”

“You have _no right_ to go talking shit about my relationship.”

Cocking his head to the side, Rowan watched Lorcan carefully, a hawk circling prey. “Elide was _very_ clear. She doesn’t want anyone lying for you, covering for you, ever again. So when people ask why she’s not with you, why she’s broken up with you, well, there’s only one answer. Because you, Lorcan Salvaterre, are a piece of shit who abused her.

And for as long as you’re on this team, I’m going to make your life a living hell.” Rowan patted him on the cheek, friendly-like. “Enjoy.”

**Day 5:**

Elide got back late from work and Manon got back even later. So it was 9 pm before they curled side-by-side on the carpet, backs propped against the couch, eating popcorn and watching Say Yes to the Dress. Manon pretended to hate this show. Manon was a fucking liar.

(On day 2, Elide had asked, _do you care if I stay a little longer_. And Manon had said, _I don’t care if you never leave_.)

As she grabbed red wine (the good stuff, Blackbeak, the goddamned good stuff this time), Elide heard Manon yell from the living room, “ _I’m not like every other bride. I’m different_. Sure, bitch, that’s why you’re buying a lace mermaid. Bring the alcohol Lochan, I’m drowning in stupidity.”

See? Elide told you that Manon was a fucking liar.

**Day 6:**

Elide had a nightmare. It sent her scrambling to the bathroom, throwing up everything until nothing remained but bile. She threw that up, too. Lorcan’s face, her uncle’s voice, the shattering in her ankle and the flames. 

Closing her eyes, Elide tried to inhale and tasted the smoke. She threw up again.

Eventually, when all that remained was the shaking and shaking, Elide registered Manon’s presence, one hand holding her hair back, the other soothing up and down her spine.

 _thanks,_ Elide coughed, voice rough, shaking and shaking. Manon pressed a soft kiss to her shoulder blade in reply.

They stayed like that for a long time, just breathing.

**Day 9:**

Dawn.

Manon’s first alarm went off at 6 am, but they still had a little time. Elide reveled in it. Breathing slow and deep, she sank into the sensation of Manon’s arm draped over her waist, a leg tucked between her thighs, lips pressed against the nape of neck. Manon slept and Elide reveled in that too, the quiet of them.

A little more time. Just a little more time.

**Day 11:**

Manon was in a bitch of mood. Elide knew it from the moment the apartment door slammed behind her. She also knew Manon well enough not to ask.

Stalking into the living room, Manon said, “Hi El,” before proceeding to take her heels off and drop them onto the floor. Hard. Elide winced … the things that woman did to a pair of Louboutins.

“I’m going to kill her.” Manon eventually said, her voice cold, amber eyes burning.

“Specify.” Elide replied, though she already knew.

“Matron. That bitch. That fucking bitch.”

“I’ve told you before, and I’ll tell you again. I’m a very good shot.”

“Thanks, El. But this is a murder I’m going to commit with my own bare hands.”

Trying to be subtle, Elide started typing a DoorDash order into her phone. It was nearly 10 pm – no way Manon had eaten since lunch. Ah, curry. Curry should do.

“Shower?” Elide helpfully suggested.

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Manon hissed out a breath. “I don’t think a shower’s going to cut it, El.”

“Probably not, but then you’ll smell good. So it’s a win for me.”

That finally, _finally_ , got Manon to smile. Twisted and sharp, but a smile. “Fine. Tell me if my phone rings.” Manon dumped it onto the marble kitchen counter and Elide really hoped for all their sakes that the screen didn’t crack. Because Manon would take that _so_ well.

As had become their habit, Manon left the bathroom door open while she showered so that they could talk (a habit that didn’t, you know, do catastrophic things to Elide’s brain).

“Maybe I will let you shoot her, El.” Manon said thoughtfully. “Just in the kneecap. Just for fun.”

“I can do that.” Elide replied, only half listening. Time till food arrival – 10 minutes. Hallelujah.

“She fucking humiliated Vesta today. _Goddamned it_.” A cold fury laced its way through Manon’s voice. “We’re meeting with the Galathynius’ and Matron pulls in her at the last second. Ves couldn’t have prepped even if she wanted to. Five minutes in and she asks Ves to present on the financials for the new club – and Ves has fucking no clue what’s going on. None. So right in front of Evalin and Rhoe, Matron says that maybe if Ves wasn’t spending all her time on her knees sucking cock, she’d have more time to prepare for meetings.”

“God damn.” Elide breathed.

“Yeah. _Yeah_. Ves doesn’t rattle easy, but that?” Manon shut off the water. “It’s one more nail in my grandmother’s coffin.”

“Why the hell?” Elide said, her brain still stuck back a few sentences ago.

“Retribution. Ves mouthed off yesterday. Matron slapped her down today.”

Elide would have thought of a suitably swear-word filled response, but her phone dinged. Food! Food food food. Getting to the door and giving the delivery woman a cheery wave, Elide was back at the kitchen table in forty-five seconds flat. God it smelled good.

“Manon!” she yelled, “I got way too much curry and even more naan. Help me eat it?”

“Sure. If there’s extra.”

Grinning to herself, Elide divided the food into two plates. Hook, line, sinker. Later, a freshly-showered Manon (who really did smell distractingly nice) sat beside her and ate and told bitchy stories about bitchier co-workers and the curry was so spicy and Elide smiled.

 _I don’t care if you never leave_ , Manon had said.

Me neither.

**Day 13:**

According to one Aelin Galathynius, Thursdays are the new Fridays. According to that same Aelin Galathynius, that means getting a little wasted on a weeknight is a _great idea_. Elide couldn’t agree more. Especially when that meant seeing Lysandra and Nehemia for the first time in _fucking forever_ and drinking one (or two or three) too many margaritas at Pablito’s and ending up at an adult ( _ehem_ ) themed shop. Lysandra may or may not have bought Elide aggressively pink, aggressively fluffy handcuffs. Elide may or may not have died.

(Her funeral will be at 11 pm sharp. Please bring chocolate.)

What definitely did happen – because Elide can’t forget this, oh my god has she tried – was The Incident. Cue scene:

Elide, right on the fine, happy line between tipsy and drunk, gets back to Manon’s apartment. Elide, not thinking clearly in any way shape or form, drops her unzipped bag onto the floor. Elide flops onto the couch next to Manon, resting her feet in the other woman’s lap and immediately falling asleep.

Abraxos goes to investigate this bag (there might be treats). But, oh, he discovers something so much better. Abraxos finds a brand new toy.

When Elide wakes up, it’s to the sight of Manon Blackbeak trying not to die with laughter while holding an aggressively pink, aggressively fluffy pair of handcuffs. Biting down on her lip, Manon finally manages to get out, “El? Do I want to know?”

“Oh. My. God.” If Elide blushes any harder, she'll combust into flame. “No, no, nonononono. That was all Lysandra. I am going to kill her. Dear god.”

“When the cops arrest you for murder, should they restrain you using these?”

“Silence!” Elide falls off the couch, because she is still really tipsy. “No. No laughing. This is _very_ _embarrassing_.”

“Sure El.” Manon replies, totally laughing.

“Give me those cuffs back.”

“Yes ma'am.” _Wink._

“Manon!”

**Day 14:**

A nightmare shot through Elide, sharper than a supernova, just as bright. _Bam_. Her body hit the kitchen counter. _Bam_. Her body hit the floor. _Bam._ Her uncle shoved her down the steps and snap, crackle, bang, her ankle split open.

I was just a kid.

 _Bam_.

She sat upright and couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t inhale. Couldn’t shake the snap, crackle, bang.

Manon’s hands touched her spine, her ribs, her cheek, trying to ground Elide down but it was all gun smoke in her head, all kerosene and pain.

She ran to the bathroom and threw up, the memories trying to carve their path right out of her body. _Bam. Bam. Bam._ Her hand reached back for Manon’s seeking, blindly. They held on, her to Manon, Manon to her. A seawall will only hold for so long against catastrophe. But it will hold for long enough.

**Day 15:**

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Lorcan opened the door. That was the second mistake. Lorcan tried to shut the door very quickly. That was the third mistake.

The first mistake? Hurting Elide Lochan.

Shoving the door back so hard that it smacked into the wall and stayed there, Manon smiled and said, “Hi Lorcan.” It wasn’t a _nice_ smile. Aelin stood by her side, head cocked to the side, still as death. She was also smiling. That didn’t make Lorcan feel any better.

“… Hi.” Lorcan tried to sound like everything was fine. What an admirable attempt, how terribly misguided.

“Now Lorcan.” Aelin stepped forward and leaned in the doorway. “I’m very fond of my sister. Did you know that? There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her. _Nothing_.” Pausing a moment, and still goddamned smiling, Aelin let all the possible meanings of that last sentence sink in. Under his spray tan, Lorcan went pale. “Right now, that means Manon and I are here to pick up Elide’s things. And you’re going to let us.”

“Bullshit.” Lorcan said, his survival instincts taking a short walk off a long cliff. “Elide can get them herself. You two aren’t coming in here.”

Turning to look at Manon, Aelin said, “Isn’t that cute? He thinks he has a choice.”

“Adorable.” Manon’s eyes never left Lorcan’s face. There was murder in them. He swallowed, going a little paler.

“Lorcan, Lorcan,” Aelin murmured, “I don’t think you’ve fully appreciated just how difficult we could make life for you. Between us we know, what, ten lawyers? Hell, we both are lawyers and I happen to be a very good one. Would you like to find out just how good? Because that can be arranged. I’m sure the court will be sympathetic to a six-foot five hockey player who beats his girlfriend.”

“Fuck you.” Lorcan spat. But he stepped back from the doorway, all bravado gone.

“Good boy.” Aelin patted his cheek, walking into the apartment and wrinkling her nose. “You live here? Jesus, thank god my sister’s free of you. You have no fucking standards.”

Lorcan pointed down a hallway, “Elide’s stuff is in the bedroom. Closet, dresser, I didn’t bother to touch it. Get it. Go.”

“Aw Manon, I don’t think he’s happy that we’re here.”

“Shocking.” Manon leaned against the dining room table, arms crossed, eyes tracing over Lorcan’s face like she had nasty little plans for him.

“Don’t play with your food, Blackbeak.” Aelin blew Lorcan a kiss before walking down the hall to the bedroom. And then it was just Manon and Lorcan, Lorcan and Manon, and a silence so deep that a heartbeat echoed. Manon waited, and waited, and – boom. Lorcan broke under the pressure.

Getting right up into Manon’s face, Lorcan spat, “This is all your fault, you cunt. Elide was happy with me. We were _happy_. But you've filled her head with lies and you ruined everything. I heard she’s living with you now – she’s such a fucking whore.”

Tipping her head to the side, Manon spoke a quiet voice, calm and steady, “Call me whatever you like. Cunt. Bitch. Dyke. I’ve heard much worse from much nastier people than you. But you never say those things about Elide.”

Quick as a strike of lightning, Manon grabbed Lorcan’s arm and twisted him, smacking his face into the wooden table. “Whoops.” Not bothering to be gentle, she pinned his other arm behind his back and whispered in his ear. “Remember this. Elide is a good person. I’m not.” With the precision of someone who has a vendetta to settle, Manon applied forced and pressure until Lorcan cried out in pain, his shoulder joints contorted, nearly dislocated. Biting into his lip, Lorcan hissed, “You fucking dyke, you’re going to get what’s coming for you.”

“The devil, Lorcan, that’s who will usher me into hell. I’m looking forward to it. Now listen to me. If you come near Elide again, I will pin you down and I won’t stop at your shoulders and I will peel the skin right off your balls.”

And at that lovely little juncture in the conversation, Aelin reentered the living room. “Oh good, looks like you two had a chance to chat.”

Stepping back from Lorcan, Manon slipped her hands into her coat pockets like that’s all it had been. A chat. A little chat. Stumbling away from them both, back to the fucking wall, Lorcan held his body carefully, so carefully, and said, “You – you, I’m going to sue. Just watch me.”

Adjusting a tote bag of Elide’s things on her shoulder, Aelin mussed, “She didn’t keep much here. I can’t imagine why. It’s so … charming.”

“Didn’t you hear me? I said I’m going to sue!”

“Oh no I heard you.” Aelin smiled at him, all teeth, all fury. “But I’m not listening. Because you aren’t going to sue. Because if you try, I will annihilate you in front of the media and the jury and the judge and god herself.”

“Bitch!”

“Next time we talk, find something more creative to call me.”

“Out!” Lorcan yelled. “Get out.”

“Didn’t your mother ever teach you manners, Salvaterre?” Manon murmured, _tisking_ softly. “You’re such a disgrace.”

“Out!”

“Only since you asked so nicely.” The two women turned to leave, but at the doorway Manon looked back and she _winked_. If any blood remained in Lorcan’s face, it didn’t stay there long.

**Day 16:**

When Manon’s phone started ringing at 7 am, Elide decided to ignore it in favor of going back to sleep. Sunday, for the love of Jesus, Mary, Joseph, and the twelve disciples, it was a _Sunday_. Sometime later, a _thunk_ and a whispered _fuck_ woke her. Eyes fluttering open, Elide watched a half-dressed Manon try to be subtle.

“Sorry.” Manon murmured, picking up her shoe. “Didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“You leaving?”

“I have to go into the office for a bit, work emergency.”

“Matron lighting fires again?”

Sighing, Manon smiled ruefully, “Is there any other kind of Sunday? But I won’t be home late.” Gesturing haphazardly around the bedroom, Manon said, “Hang out with Abraxos. I think there’s food in the fridge. That damn turtleneck is in the top dresser drawer now. Take whatever you want, it’s yours.”

“Okay.” Elide murmured, cheek squished against the pillow. Through her eyelashes, she watched Manon finish getting dressed, slipping on a shirt and jacket, rings and heels. Armor and iron and gold.

“See you tonight, Lochan. Call me about anything.” For a moment, Manon sat on the bed and gently ran her fingers through Elide’s hair. Then her heels _clicked, clicked_ across the floor and she was gone. Curling onto her side, Elide burrowed further into the blankets and breathed in the scent of Manon’s perfume and breathed out something that tasted like glory.

**Day 18:**

Reaching out, Elide nearly touched her fingertips to Manon’s shoulder blade. Nearly. She knew the rhythm of Manon’s breath, and the other woman wasn’t asleep yet. Not really.

“What is it, El?” Manon asked, not rolling over.

“How awake are you?”

“Enough.”

“I never really said that I’m sorry. For that morning. For all the shit – ”

“El.” Manon did roll over then, her amber eyes half-open and watchful.

 _Please forgive me for I have sinned. I don’t know how to make it right but_ _I’m here_. _I’m trying.  
_

“No.” Elide laid her palm in the gap between them, until it’s almost like there was no distance at all. “No, don’t cut me off. What I did was awful. I just … I took all this pain I had and I put it on you. I didn’t mean a thing that I said and I said it anyway. I know … I know words can’t make it right, but I need you to know that I’m so fucking sorry.”

Taking Elide’s hand, Manon kissed her knuckles, soft and gentle. “I’m sorry too,” she whispered, lips painting the path of her words. “ _Fuck_. I hurt you too. I called you a coward, and – god, El. That haunts me. Because you’re the bravest woman I’ve ever known. How could I dare call you that?

And you were in pain and _I left you_. That haunts me too. Every day. That you needed a friend and I claimed to love you and I left you.” Manon pressed another kiss against Elide’s skin, trying to communicate all the words she didn’t know how to say. “I’m so sorry.”

“We both fucked up, didn’t we?”

“God, yes.”

“Don’t laugh – ” Elide started to say, but Manon always had to be the smart-ass.

“I’ll try to restrain my hilarity.”

“Thanks, Manon. What I’m trying to say is …” Elide bit on her lip, worried at it, took in a breath, “Can you forgive me?”

Manon didn’t laugh. Interweaving her fingers with Elide’s, holding her closer than close, she breathed out, “I already have.” Then Manon paused, her eyes flitting down to where their hands intertwined. “Can you? Forgive me?”

“ _Yes_.”

**Day 21:**

“Ellie!” Aelin answered her phone on the third ring. “How are you? Where are you?”

“Beach. I’m just on my lunch break, needed to clear my head.”

“Rough day at work?”

“No, not that.”

“Oh my god, is Blackbeak being mean to you? Because I will disappear her, I swear. _No one_ will find the body.”

“Okay, you work in a law office, so cool it on the murder talk.” Elide said, laughing despite herself. “Manon is wonderful, thanks for asking.”

“Uh-hu, sure, _Manon is wonderful_. Whatever. You just say the word and I’m grabbing my shovel. Hey, do you mind if I eat lunch while we talk? Fucking starving.”

“Go for it.”

“Great, thanks. Rowan keeps packing me turkey and cheese sandwiches which is simultaneously so grade-school and so endearing. Today he even included a Capri Sun. It’s the little things that keep a marriage sexy, Ellie.”

“Thanks for the details.”

“Anytime. So what’s up?” Aelin said, starting in on the Capri Sun.

Deep breath. Clear your throat. Try. Keep on fucking trying. “So. Um. I was wondering if I could ask you about Sam?”

Aelin stopped drinking her Capri Sun. In a wary, weary sort of voice, she said, “What do you want to know?”

“You loved him.” A statement, not a question.

“Yeah. I did.”

Sitting down, Elide took off her shoes and curled her toes in the warm sand. Her eyes tracked across the line of the horizon, the place where blue became blue became blue, light after light. “Do you still love him?”

“Ellie – ” And Aelin just sounded so unspeakably sad.

“Because after Sam ended it with you, you were a wreck. You fell apart. You cried for weeks. You refused to say his name for months. Right? That’s how much you missed him. That’s how much you loved him.”

Silence. Then a long sigh from the other end of the line. “I did. Honestly, I still do. Miss him. Love him. It’s just a different sort of loving him now.”

“Linny?” Elide closed her eyes. Wave after wave. Light beyond light. “Then why don’t I miss Lorcan? He was a piece of my life for years. I said I loved him. I was going to marry him. But I’m not crying. And I haven’t fallen apart. I feel …”

_free_

Another sigh, the longest exhale. And Aelin choose her next words very carefully. “Look, Ellie. I can’t answer that for you. But, let me ask something – did you love him? Or did you want to love him?”

“I – ” Elide opened her mouth. She closed it. The waves rolled in and Elide walked to the water until it baptized her feet, until it carried away what she couldn’t carry any more. _Love._ I am a well made of memories. Long nights with Lorcan spent laughing and fucking, fights and daydreams, longer fights and lost daydreams, still two people trying. You made me happy and I thought, _this is what love is_.

 _Because I love you_. A smile that lit up every inch of her life. A perfume that left her dizzy with an ache she’d dared not name or tame. _I don’t care if you never leave_. A voice at the other end of the phone on the longest night. _God but I’ve missed you_. A hand intertwined with her own, there at all the ragged edges. The woman she loved more than anything.

“Goddamn it.” Elide said. And the world turned right side round.

“Ellie?”

“You’re always right, you know that? It’s so annoying.” Elide said, smiling and crying and laughing for the sheer glory of it. “I have to go.”

“Are you alright? Ellie?”

“I’m – I’m so fucking good. It's just, I have to go. I love you, Linny.” Elide hung up the phone and she shoved on her shoes, who cared that her feet were soaking wet, who honestly gave a fuck? Pounding and pounding, her heart was pounding and pounding.

Manon Blackbeak, you are the goddamned love of my life. What the hell have I kept you waiting for?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So you'll notice that in this story, Sam isn't dead. In fact, a lot characters in the original series who died aren't dead in this fic. That's because I don't believe death is the final arbiter of grief. Loss comes in so many forms, doesn't it? And sometimes that loss looks like a person being gone from your life forever, even when they're still right here.


	14. Inversion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY GOD Y'ALL THE IDIOTS HAVE BECOME LOVERS. IT ONLY TOOK THEM 27 YEARS TO FIGURE THEIR SHIT OUT. COULD NOT BE PROUDER OF THESE ABSOLUTE FOOLS, THESE GODDAMNED MUPPETS.

_There’s an ache in you, put there by the ache in me._

Taylor Swift

It turns out, life picked that exact moment to get complicated ( _shocking_ ). Because Elide still had four very busy hours left at the vet clinic. And Elide, in her infinite wisdom, had forgotten that she and Maureen needed to attend a _Save the Pigeons!_ fundraiser that evening because Maureen claimed it would be good karma for the clinic.

Yes – Save. The fucking. Pigeons.

Elide thought it sounded like an exercise in masochism. She wasn’t wrong.

After three hours, one uncomfortable cocktail dress, and approximately six mediocre canapes later, Elide finally made it back to Manon’s apartment. It was only when she finally collapsed onto the couch that she saw the texts.

Abraxos’ Mom

 _Abraxos' Mom_ : Have to deal w shit at the new club, going to be back so fucking late

don’t bother waiting up

left over fried rice in the fridge, eat it or I will

 _Elide_ : kay

kick all the asses

Fuck goddamned it. Tonight of all the nights, the universe decided to have a sense of humor. Curled on the couch, Elide did bother to wait up (well, at least, she tried). At some ungodly hour, she heard keys rustle in the lock, heels click across the floor, and – “El, damn it. I told you to go to sleep.”

 _mgmghgm_ she mumbled into the couch cushion.

“Idiot.” Manon replied, fondness curling around the word, before gently picking Elide up and carrying her to bed.

On Saturday morning, the universe decided to give Elide a reprieve. No exploding text chains. No six am alarms. No morning run. Just her and Manon, curled around each other in a warm bed. “Why are you watching me Lochan?” Manon murmured, voice heavy with sleep.

“Cause you’re cute.”

“Serial killer.”

“That how you talk to the girls you get into bed?”

“What do you want to know about the things I get up to in bed?”

“Everything.”

That got Manon’s eyes to snap open. “Umm?”

Sitting up, Elide shoved her ungodly mass of hair to one side and said, “So. There’s something I want to talk about.”

Manon groaned. “It’s – ” she checked the time, “9 am. Can it wait?”

“I love you.”

“What?” Manon sat bolt upright, eyes wide.

Smiling, Elide couldn’t stop smiling, she said, “I, Elide Lochan, love you, Manon Blackbeak. Not like family, and not like a friend.”

“Ummm.” Manon said for the second time that morning.

Elide took advantage of that very rare, shock-induced silence. “I was talking to Aelin yesterday about … you know what, it doesn’t matter. I was talking to Aelin and I realized something. I thought I needed time to get over being in love, but it wasn’t love, what I had with him. It was wanting something to be what it never could.

Because I’ve known love, Manon. All those years. All of us. I’m standing there and it’s like the whole world goes clear. And all I can think is, why the hell did I keep you waiting? You – you’re the love of my goddamned life. I’ve been so lost inside my own head, but every time I turn, there you are. I want to be with you, if you’ll still have me.”

And Manon sat there, eyes wide, fixed on Elide’s face. Frozen.

“Umm, Manon?” Elide eventually asked, her fingers twisting in the bed sheets, a fear like she had never known driving her heartbeat.

_This time, are you going to say it back?_

_Please don’t let me be too late. I’d give almost anything, for you, anything. Just don’t let me be too late._

“ _Yes_.” Manon finally breathed in reply, eyes tracking over every inch of Elide’s skin. “Oh my god yes.”

“Yes?” And Elide laughed, her heart igniting up inside her chest, “Yes!” She leaned forward, her body braced on top of Manon’s, just inches apart now. Finally, only inches apart. And Manon lay beneath her, hair spread outward like a halo, a smile breaking across her face, delicate and rare.

“Say it again?” she whispered.

And so Elide did. Nudging their noses together, smiling wild and bright, Elide said, “I love you, Manon Blackbeak.”

Manon’s eyes fluttered shut, like she could drown in the sensation forever. Carefully – more careful than anyone believed she could be – Manon settled one hand on Elide’s hip and the other on her jaw, cradling Elide between her palms. “Can I kiss you?” The question came out hesitant, uncertain, trying anyway.

“Hell yes.”

And so Manon Blackbeak was laughing the first time she kissed Elide Lochan, grinning against her mouth. And Elide ignited, body shifting against Manon’s with a soft gasp as the kiss turned slow and gentle, igniting all the dark places.

When Manon pulled back, those amber eyes gauging Elide’s reaction, Elide leaned right back in, letting the second kiss consume her whole as Manon kissed her with a wild, deep hunger, as Elide buried her fingers in all that slivery hair, soft as corn silk. Pulling back for air, Elide gasped “ _fuck_ ” as Manon kissed down her jaw, licked up her neck, whispered _I love you too_ against her pulse.

Settling her legs over Manon’s hips, Elide couldn’t stop herself from grinding down, from moving with the kiss, from wanting to feel every inch of Manon against every inch of her. Manon bucked against her, back lightly arching with the sensation, a soft groan in the back of her throat. And Elide – Elide tried to chase that sound, tried to make it happen again and again, as their bodies shifted together, steady and unstoppable.

Shit might have really escalated past the point of no return if Abraxos hadn’t decided, right at that moment, that he’d waited long enough for breakfast. Jumping onto the bed, he barked. And being a wolf hound, he barked _really fucking loudly_.

It still took Manon a solid thirty seconds to break the kiss, falling back against the pillows, breath ragged. “Fuck.” She exhaled, amber eyes blown to black. “I mean, _fuck_.”

Abraxos barked. Loudly. Again.

Elide did not help matters much because Elide did not move. She was really rather enjoying the sensation of Manon’s hips nestled between her legs. She didn’t want to leave this bed. She … never wanted to leave.

“El,” Manon groaned, pressing a hand against her face, “I need to feed the dog.”

“I know.”

“That means I need to get up.”

“ _I know_. But …”

Lightly rolling her hips against Elide's, Manon smiled up at her and said, “We can come back here. After.”

“Yeah?”

“Scouts honor.”

And Abraxos interrupted this really touching scene by starting to howl. Because _clearly_ his humans were not getting the message. It worked. They scrambled to their feet, heading for the kitchen in record time, as Manon muttered, “Okay, okay, you dumpster fire of a pet, shut up. I’m _finally_ kissing Elide in my bed and this is how you act? Disowned.”

Leaning against the counter, Elide watched Manon try to function and fail so very badly. Smiling, a delicate little thing, Elide asked, “You’ve been thinking about having me in your bed?”

And Manon stopped. And Manon stared. And stared. “Is that even a question? Shit, yes Lochan.”

“Good.” Elide bit down on her lip but she couldn’t bite back the grin. “Because I’m not about to win any awards for purity of thoughts.”

Manon spilled dog food everywhere. Staring down at the mess she’d made, Manon finally shrugged and said, “fuck it,” pouring the rest of his breakfast onto the floor too. Abraxos ate, but not without casting some major side-eye first.

Just as they were finally about to head back to bed and get this goddamned show on the goddamned road, Manon checked her phone and froze.

“What?” Elide asked, half-dreading the answer. “Matron? Cousins? Miami in actual flames?”

“Your special penguin exhibit.”

“My what?”

“Your special penguin exhibit at the zoo. It’s today. I set a calendar notification.” Manon flashed her the phone screen, and right there, in big, bold letters: ELIDE’S UNGODLY SPECIAL PENGUIN EXHIBIT THAT WE, YES WE, MUST ATTEND.

“Awww, you set a calendar notification for me?” Elide pressed a hand to her chest, something warm and bright burning beneath her ribs.

“Yeah, and look at the one right next to it, BUY MORE WHISKEY.”

Elide swatted at Manon’s shoulder, “Way to ruin a cute moment, Blackbeak.”

“Self-preservation is an important trait, El.”

“You love penguins.”

“Not the way I love you.”

“Oh.” And the entire morning bloomed between them once more, the heat and the press of Manon between her legs and the way Manon’s tongue slipped inside her mouth to paint her with lines of fire.

Taking a step closer, and another step closer, until she could wind her arms around Elide’s waist, Manon murmured, “You still want to go?”

Scrunching her face up, Elide winced as she replied, “Does it make me a really shitty person if I say yes? Because oh my god do I also want to keep doing everything we’re getting up to in bed, but there’s this really famous ornithologist coming and she like _never_ visits the US and I’m like, kind of in _awe_ of her, and the baby penguins are hatching…”

Nudging their noses together, Manon kissed Elide on the cheek, “Let’s go look at penguins. Incompetent little penguins.”

“I owe you. 100%. Anything you want.”

“Anything? Well, I can think of a few ways for you to make it up to me.” Manon murmured, kissing her way down Elide’s neck until Elide arched agnaist her body, hands tangling everywhere, everywhere. “Do I have to keep my hands to myself during this little excursion?” 

“We cannot screw against the penguin enclosure!”

“Well damn, there go my afternoon plans.” Manon shot back, laughing too hard, barely holding it together.

“No traumatizing the little babies.” Elide carded her fingers through Manon’s hair, resolve dissolving away like mist into air.

“I promise to behave myself.” Except Manon’s fingers were playing at the edge of Elide’s t-shirt, yearning for bare skin.

“Lies”

“Guilty.” Manon replied, kissing Elide’s throat until she laughed and tried to squirm away, never really wanting to leave. “Okay. I am going to take a shower. Alone. Door shut. Because Jesus – I just …” Manon deliberately let go, hands held carefully at her sides. She exhaled, those hands shaking.

Elide took her own careful step away, tucked her own hands carefully behind her back. “Okay. Have fun with that.”

“I will.” Before the thin restraint thrumming between them could snap completely, Manon turned and walked into the bathroom. No looking back, that would be a very bad idea.

And Manon might have promised to behave, but Elide had made no such promises. Right before the door shut completely, she called out, “Don’t take too long getting yourself off! We have to go soon.”

“Fuck you!” Manon yelled back.

“That is the idea.”

Manon might have taken her sweet damn time showering, and Elide might have sat on the floor beside Abraxos, cuddling him close, unable to comprehend the radiance inside her chest. She stole that damn turtleneck and wore Manon’s perfume because she could and now when she looked into the mirror, all that remained across her check was a thin red line. A memory. I can walk forward. It lives with me. And I walk ahead.

Somehow, they managed to behave themselves on the way to the zoo, hands tangling over the center console of the car, Elide’s thumb tracing patterns over Manon’s wrist. And maybe when Elide bought the tickets, Manon stood a little too close for _just really good friends_ , her arms slipping around Elide’s waist. And maybe Elide really liked it. They wandered through the zoo, still holding hands, like teenagers when life does nothing but unspool and unspool, all this potential this promise this goddamned hope. Elide had forgotten how good it felt. Hope.

Unfortunately for Manon, that’s exactly when Elide saw her _lil babies_. Also unfortunately for Manon, Elide did not let go of her hand when she ran towards them, which nearly resulted in a dislocated shoulder and definitely resulted in some non-child appropriate language. And sure, Manon had promised to behave, but there’s a lot of space between _hands off_ and _fucking against the penguin enclosure_. That space looks something like Manon pressing herself against Elide’s back, hands tucking into the front pockets of her jeans, teeth lightly tugging at her ear lobe, hips rocking. Soft. Subtle. Unmistakable.

“ _Manon_.” Elide exhaled, trying so damn hard to hold her own body still.

“What?”

“This is not _playing nice_.”

“Are you wearing my perfume?”

“Yeah.” Her breath hitched, hands braced on the railing of the enclosure.

“I like it.” Manon nipped at Elide’s neck, tongue darting out to sooth her skin. “I like smelling my perfume on you.”

“Noted.” Elide swallowed, so fucking far from steady.

“That’s my girl. Now," a hand slipped just underneath the hem of her shirt, darting across bare skin, "let’s go listen to a penguin lecture.”

It turns out a darkened auditorium is a terrible place to be when a lifetime of sexual tension is about to go critical. Sure, Manon played nice while the famed ornithologist Dr. Rosenblaum gave her famed presentation, but Elide still had to try and function around the sensation of Manon’s fingers running in mindless patterns up and down her thigh. She listened to the lecture and she looked at the pictures of the little penguins living their happy little penguin lives and … her core ached with a white-hot intensity. Her whole body thrummed with such unbearable yearning.

It was really fucking distracting.

When the lecture ended and the lights came up, Elide did not look at Manon. Because they could not fuck in front of a penguin enclosure, and they really could not fuck in the middle of a crowded lecture hall.

“Do you want to go chat with her?” Manon asked. “It looks like she’s taking questions.”

“Nope. Let’s go.”

“You sure?”

Elide’s hand pressed down hard on Manon’s thigh in a way that was not remotely fucking subtle. “ _Yes_.”

“Okay, yeah, getting out of here now.”

Except the second they got home, they realized that they were out of dog food ( _thanks Manon_ ), so it was off to the store, and then feeding Abraxos, and then feeding themselves, and then Elide showered and long story short, it was 7 pm before they sat side by side on the couch, just inches apart.

“So.” Elide cleared her throat. “Umm, Netflix and Chill? I’ve heard it’s all the rage among the youths.”

“Are you propositioning me?”

“Yes. Absolutely.”

“Good thing I’m a cheap date.” Manon leaned in to kiss her.

“Bullshit.” Elide murmured against her lips. “You have the most expensive taste in whiskey.”

“Shoot me for having standards.”

“Stop talking.”

They didn’t make it to Netflix, but they did make it bed. Curled on their sides, kissing softly, legs intertwined. When her hands tangled around the edge of Elide’s shirt, Manon asked, “Is this okay?” Her voice didn’t sound quite steady.

“If you stop now, I swear to god…” but Elide didn’t bother to finish that threat. She just sat up and tugged the shirt over her head, fully aware that she’d abandoned her bra long ago. Then it was Manon’s turn to sit upright, to whisper “ _fuck,_ ” her eyes trailing over Elide’s stomach, her breasts, lingering there, eyes blown black.

“ _El …_ ” Manon didn’t move, not a damned inch, her palms pressed into the bedspread.

Laying back, Elide tugged Manon to settle over her body, legs straddling her hips. “I want you to touch me.”

Something in Manon’s eyes snapped. Her hands slipped down Elide’s shoulders, thumbs brushing over her collarbones, cataloguing every twitch and gasp. But when she reached the curve of Elide’s breasts, Manon slowed, came to a stop.

“What is it?” Elide asked, hanging onto coherence by one single thread.

“I – ” Manon tried to talk, but she lost herself in staring down at Elide. “I’ve wanted this with you for so long, and now it doesn’t feel … how can this even be real?”

And Elide knew Manon, her laughter, her arrogance, her joy. And this was Manon hesitant, Manon uncertain, Manon yearning and yearning. “Give me your hand.” Elide whispered in reply. When Manon did, Elide carefully placed it on her own breast, whispering, “I want you, Manon. I just want you.”

Bowing her head, Manon pressed her lips against Elide’s neck, just breathing there, just grounding herself down. “ _Baby_. God, I want you so badly. I don’t know how to tell you how badly I want you.”

“Then _show_ me.” Elide dragged her nails down Manon’s spine, praying the motion left marks.

Manon had never met a challenge she couldn’t accept. Manon never cracked, _she never cracked_ , but Elide … for Elide …

Kissing along Elide’s jaw line, Manon began to mark a slow trail down her body, lingering at her throat, the dip between her collarbones, the flushed curve of her breasts. Flicking her gaze up to watch Elide’s face, Manon tongued at a nipple until Elide shivered at the touch, hips shifting restlessly.

“ _Manon_.” Elide gasped, her palms sliding helpless and desperate over the other woman’s back. Grinning, Manon carried on, running her tongue over one breast, then the other, tasting every inch of skin. Lost to it, Elide ground her hips against Manon’s, desperate for friction and fucking lighting up. When Manon took a nipple between her teeth, Elide’s breath hitched, froze, and her head fell back. Senseless. Glorious. Agony.

Patiently taking Elide’s other nipple into her mouth, Manon whispered against overheated skin, “Easy there Lochan, I want to take my time with you.”

“Oh fuck me.”

“Now you’re getting the idea.”

Tugging Manon’s head down, Elide kissed her with a fierce hunger and their hips rocked together, a steady, building grind that felt like glory and the edge of something greater. Manon stared at Elide and breathed her name like a prayer, _El_ , pressing a thumb against Elide’s lower lip and groaning when she sucked it into her mouth. “God, the things I want to do to you.”

“Then do it. All of it.”

“Babe, I – ”

“I don’t think you understand.” Elide kissed Manon like how she wanted to get fucked, tongue and teeth and wild yearning. “I want you on every inch of me.”

Pinning Elide’s arms above her head, Manon ground down against her hips with reckless abandon. “Yes, fuck.” Elide cried out, straining into the other woman’s touch.

“Just you wait babe,” a kiss to her throat, “until I have my tongue between your legs.”

“Fuck, please. _Please.”_

“You want me to lick you open?”

In response, Elide gasped, her legs twinning tight around Manon’s hips.

“I asked you a question, baby. Do you. Want me. To lick you? Get my tongue inside you until you’re coming in my mouth?”

“Manon!”

“Answer me.”

“Yes, god, yes.”

“Good girl.” And that made Elide whimper, fucking whimper, as Manon kissed down her body, stopping to suck at a nipple again and murmur, “Such a good girl.”

“Please.” Elide begged, her vision whiting out, her core an aching, pounding heat.

Moving to the soft plane of Elide’s stomach, Manon swirled her tongue over all that skin, painting restless patterns. “I dreamed about you,” her lips charted the path of her words, “I knew I shouldn’t. But I did. And then I would wake up and I couldn’t stop.” Lightly biting at Elide’s hip bone, Manon murmured, “I wondered and wondered how you’d sound beneath me. How you’d gasp. How you’d say my name. What you would taste like, coming against me. I look at you, Elide Lochan, and I can’t breathe.”

And there was no holding onto her sanity after hearing a thing like that. Elide did gasp, did breathe out Manon’s name, rocking their bodies together and _aching_. And then Manon drifted a hand up Elide’s thigh, slow and steady, giving her all the time in the world to pull away. She didn’t. She just begged _please_.

Pressing her lips against Elide’s stomach once more, breathing there rough and ragged, Manon traced her fingers over soaked underwear. “ _Fuck_ you’re wet. You’re so ready for me baby, aren’t you?”

The only sound Elide could think to make was a low groan, her hands clenching desperately at the sheets. Grinning feral and bright, Manon slowly pulled Elide’s underwear down her legs, stopping every few inches to press a kiss against her thighs. The sound of Elide’s _inhale, exhale, inhale_ echoed in the room. Finally tossing the underwear to the side, Manon licked up her right thigh, murmuring, “So damn wet. I’m going to fuck you on my tongue and then I’m going to fuck you on my fingers until you’re calling out my name.”

“That won’t … be hard … to accomplish.” Elide gasped out, one second from completely falling apart.

In response, Manon parted Elide’s legs wide and licked right through her core. Arching under the touch, Elide cried out and burrowed her hands into Manon’s hair. Helpless. She ground into her mouth, lost in how good it felt to be touched like this. Helpless. She sought more, deeper, everything. Shifting her grip, Manon pretty damn effectively pinned Elide’s hips down, tongue slipping inside her entrance until Elide begged, _Manon please, Manon_. Her hips desperately tried to buck, needing the movement, needing to ride Manon’s tongue.

Gripping Elide’s legs tighter, Manon stilled her, shifting to press her tongue against Elide’s clit, massaging it in soft circles. The warm, wet pressure did filthy things to Elide’s brain and she felt an orgasm building, unstoppable, in the base of her spine, lightning following thunder. “Manon,” she gasped, gripping her hair tighter, “I’m going to come. I can’t – I’m going – I’m – ”

Hips shuddering, fucking, body bowed in a silent cry, Elide came in Manon’s mouth. And Manon licked her through it, tonguing her clit to the fine edge between pleasure and pain. Whiteout. Every single sense whited out, leaving nothing but an orgasm so deep it left her legs twitching, lungs gasping for air.

Barely giving Elide time to recover, Manon flipped her onto her stomach and pushed her tangle of brown hair to one side. Tossing her own shirt and yoga pants somewhere into the waste land at the end of the bed, Manon said, “I told you that I wasn’t done with you.” Every word punctuated with a kiss down Elide's spine. “I promised to fuck you hard.” That was all the warning Elide got before Manon parted her legs and pushed two fingers straight into her core.

“Fuck!” Elide cried out, hips spasming, fingers clutching at the sheets.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No, god no, please no.”

“Good.” Manon pressed her forehead against Elide’s spine, stilling inside her. “You feel so fucking good around my fingers. You feel … _god_.” Kissing down Elide's back, Manon started to fuck her with slow, deep thrusts, and Elide matched her motion for motion, grinding herself back onto Manon’s hand. Taking a fistful of Elide’s hair, Manon pulled her head up and whispered in her ear, “Say my name.”

“Manon.”

“Louder.”

“ _Manon!_ ”

“And what do you want?” But Elide was too far gone to answer, lost in the snap of her hips against Manon’s hnad. Pulling her fingers out and ignoring the keening noise Elide made, Manon said, “Answer, or I’ll stop touching you and you can just watch me fuck myself.”

“Dear god,” Elide gasped.

“I’ll take the compliment, but it’s not what I want to hear out of your mouth.”

“ _Fine_ \- I want you to get your hand back between my fucking legs and I want to come around your fingers and then taste myself on your tongue.” To emphasize the goddamned point, Elide started rocking her ass against Manon’s hips. “Clear enough?”

Done with wasting time, Manon pushed two fingers back into Elide, deep and fast, gasping at her wet heat. “ _Fuck_ El,” Manon bit out, setting a brutal pace. Elide matched her thrust for thrust, crying out in pleasure when Manon shifted a knee behind her hand, taking Elide harder. The filthy sound of their bodies coming together filled the room. It didn’t take long before Elide’s legs started to shake, the orgasm spiraling through her, spiraling and spiraling until she snapped, nothing but ignited nerve endings and breathless whimpers as her core clenched around Manon’s fingers.

Easing Elide through it, Manon gently pulled out and rolled her onto her back, brushing loose strands of hair off her forehead. Through the haze of her orgasm, Elide watched Manon lick her fingers clean. _Sweet fucking god_. Then, true to her word, Manon pressed their bodies together and kissed her, deep and dirty.

Barely pausing to break that kiss – the best _fucking_ kiss of her _fucking_ life – Elide turned onto her side and took Manon with her. Eventually, she found the bandwidth to say, “ _Hi_.”

Laughing against Elide’s mouth, Manon mumbled, “Hi back.”

“How do you still have underwear on?”

Nipping at Elide’s lower lip, Manon said, “Why yes Manon, that was an amazing fuck, thank you, five stars, I can’t believe – ”

“Less talking. More nudity.” It took Manon another minute to get that damned underwear off, but only because it took Elide almost the entire minute to stop kissing her. But eventually, Manon summoned the muscle coordination necessary to tug it down, kick it away, and then Elide had a naked Manon Blackbeak kneeling on the bed. Which, hell. _Holy hell_.

Sitting up, Elide dragged her fingers across the plane of Manon’s stomach, feeling muscles twitch under her touch. Hesitant, she stopped just beneath Manon’s breasts, fingertips shaking.

She had thought that she was over this. Over everything. Over Manon.

She had lied and she had lost and now …

“El?” Nudging Elide to lay down, Manon settled just above her hips, until Elide could feel the other woman’s slick core pressing against her stomach. Taking Elide’s hand in her own, Manon brought it up to cup her breast. Achingly, infinitely tender. The world thinks it knows you, Manon Blackbeak, but I see clearly.

Massaging Manon’s breast beneath her palm, Elide carefully ran a thumb over her nipple and watched Manon’s head tip back in pleasure, a soft breath hissing out between her teeth. Pulling Manon back down to kiss her, Elide said against her mouth, “What do you want? I’ll do anything you want.”

Pressing Elide into the mattress, Manon kissed her deep, fucking with her tongue. Eventually, she found the presence of mind to get out, “Fingers, your fingers. Start with two, I can take it.” And Elide whimpered into Manon’s mouth at that, their hips rocking together in a fast, rough rhythm. Rolling them, Manon settled onto her back, staring up at Elide through her eyelashes. Which, you know, _destroyed_ Elide’s final two brain cells.

It should have been easy. It should have been simple. She knew the mechanics. She knew how badly she wanted to make Manon feel good. But an anxiety crawled through her, stilling her body, gripping her limbs. “El?” Manon sat up, eyebrows furrowed in concern. “What is it? Do you want to slow down or stop?”

“No. _No_.” Elide shook her head to emphasize the point. “It’s just … you’re going to think it’s stupid.”

“It’s not.” Gently cupping Elide’s cheek, Manon said, “Hey, look at me. Whatever it is, it’s not stupid. Tell me, baby.”

Closing her eyes, because it made breathing easier, Elide murmured, “I haven’t, you know, been with a woman in a while. And you’re really fucking good at this. I don’t want to … disappoint you.”

“El.” Manon curled their bodies together. “Open your eyes? Good, because I want you looking at me when I tell you that you could never disappoint me.”

“But I might be bad at sex.” Elide protested, trying to ignore how her cheeks flamed red.

“First of all,” Manon kissed one of those cheeks, “I’ve been banging you for about, oh, the last half hour and let me say, you’re not bad at sex. Second of all, I’m not worried about _good_ or _bad_. It’s just – I want you. I want to be with you. I want to explore touching you. I want you to explore touching me. I want to learn _exactly_ how good it feels to be with you.”

“Okay.” Elide rested her forehead against Manon’s, exhaling out a shaky breath. “You promise?” Those last words came out hesitant, vulnerable.

“Swear.” And then, “El, we don’t have to do anything you don’t want. We can stop right now and watch Netflix or sleep or – ”

“I want to fuck you.”

Manon blinked. “Well alright then.”

“Also, I love you.”

And Manon laughed, kissing her cheek, a chaste, little thing. “I love you too.”

They lost themselves in another kiss, bodies shifting together, rhythm and flow. Settling between Manon’s hips, Elide gently rocked against the other woman’s body, learning the push and the pull of them. Finally convincing her brain that she should sit up, Elide carefully knelt between Manon’s knees and starting running her thumbs in soft patterns up her thighs. Manon arched under the touch, her eyes slipping closed. It was madness, the closest Elide had ever come to glory, here and now, Manon beneath her, spread open and twitching under her hands.

“ _Elide_.” She breathed the name like a prayer.

“Yeah, Manon. I’m here.”

“El, I want you so badly.”

“I know the feeling.”

Gazing up at Elide, Manon asked, “Still nervous?” Elide’s small nod was all she needed. Taking one of Elide’s hands in her own, Manon toyed with her fingers and said, “Can I offer a suggestion?”

“I’m all ears.”

“What if I show you how to touch me? Would you like that?”

A flash of longing split through Elide, clean and fierce as lightning. “Oh god yes please.”

“Okay.” Manon leaned in closer, her breath a little ragged against Elide’s jaw. “Whatever you like, whatever you don’t like, I need you to tell me. Alright?”

“Yes.” Elide responded. “God yes. And you will too, right?”

“I promise.”

“Good, okay.” Elide’s breath was also a little ragged, a little fast. Because sweet Jesus. The longing split into her like lightning.

Bracing one foot on the bed, Manon spread her knees wider and Elide almost whimpered out loud. “First,” Manon nipped at Elide’s knuckles, “lick these fingers for me baby.” Elide really did whimper at that, sliding two fingers into her own mouth.

Biting down on her lip, Manon’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment. “Good, you’re so good. Now, come here.” Delicately kissing Elide’s fingertips, Manon guided their hands down and pressed Elide’s fingers into her core. Elide groaned at the contact, her sanity hanging by invisible threads. “That’s it baby, just like that.” Manon bit out, showing Elide how to massage circles around her clit, how to dip into her entrance, how to tease and touch and – “ _Fuck,_ don’t touch my clit long, I won’t last if you – oh sweet fuck, god.” Manon groaned, her hips jerking under Elide’s fingers.

“Like that?” Elide asked sweetly.

“Yeah,” Manon eventually gasped out, her chest arching off the mattress. “Inside, go inside me baby.” Curling herself protectively over Manon, Elide kissed her softly and pushed two fingers into her core. For the longest span of a breathless moment, she just stayed there, reveling in the sensation of Manon’s wet heat around her, lost in knowing that she got to hold her this close. There’s no undoing how deeply I am bound to you. So be it. So let it be.

 _I love you_.

Kissing Manon’s shoulder, her neck, her jaw, Elide started to move her fingers, a deep, steady rhythm, and Manon rocked in time, meeting every thrust. “You’re so good baby,” Manon murmured, “you feel so good inside me.” When Elide started to speed up, wanting – _needing­_ – to feel Manon come around her, Manon lightly gripped her wrist and slowed them back down. “Easy. Please. I just want to feel you.”

Their kiss turned messy, half breath, half longing. Taking Elide’s left hand, Manon guided it down and said, “I’m so close baby. Put your thumb on my clit. Rub it in circles while you fuck me.”

And so Elide did, gasping when Manon bucked against her, the walls of her core slamming down. It only took another minute, a glorious, divine minute of losing herself in Manon Blackbeak’s body, before Elide felt her surrender. Biting into Elide’s shoulder and scrapping nails down her back, Manon rode out her orgasm. Her body shivered and shivered, caught in the aftershocks, as a small, breathless whimper slipped free.

As Manon’s body eased around her, Elide slipped her fingers free and laid her head against Manon’s chest, playfully licking at her breast, reveling in the achingly soft skin.

Manon groaned, her fingers tangling into Elide’s hair, “I might need a minute before we do that again, babe. It was fun. Very, _very_ , fun. But god…” Stretching, Manon shifted her legs so that Elide could settle between the cradle of her hips.

“Just fun?” Elide kissed Manon’s breast again. Because it was there. Because she could. Because she fucking loved Manon Blackbeak’s tits.

“Mhmmhm.” Manon responded, eyes slipping closed even as one hand started to drift up and down Elide’s spine, tracing mindless patterns. “Good, clean fun.”

“Hmm, so that’s why you reek of sex right now.”

Manon clicked her tongue, “So crude.”

“What can I say? I’ve been under the influence of a wild, dangerous woman.” Shifting, Elide took Manon’s nipple into her mouth, softly licking the bud till it peaked. “She took me to bed and undid me. Completely undid me.”

“Fuck, El.”

“But I’m glad you had fun.”

“I’m never going to hear the end of that, am I?”

“Probably not.” Elide laughed against Manon’s skin. “So. You got any plans for the rest of tonight?”

Manon cracked one eye open, “You have work tomorrow, _babe_.”

“You have no sense of adventure.”

“I _run_ Miami’s nightlife. I think my ‘sense of adventure’ is doing just fine.”

“Sure Blackbeak. Well, since you’re already a kill joy,” Elide lightly poked Manon in the ribs, “wanna watch the new documentary about sloths on Netflix?”

Closing her eyes again and looking like she was praying for deliverance, Manon eventually said, “Netflix. Has a sloth. Documentary?”

“Hmm.” Elide nodded happily. “Just dropped yesterday. It’s like three hours long, but we can watch it in segments.”

Rolling them over, Manon pinned Elide’s hands against the mattress and said, “We’re already in bed, baby. Why bother with Netflix?”

“I thought someone needed a moment to recover?”

“Fucking hell.” Manon laughed, kissing Elide’s throat with a soft groan. “Sloths?”

“I could be persuaded otherwise.” And Elide grinned, bright and wild, as they began to shift together again, bodies slotting into place.


	15. Hyenas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> two chapters in one day??? what is this madness? the author certainly doesn't know. the author is the one going mad.

The First Person to Tell Manon About This Group Chat Dies

 _Vesta_ : I vote that Elide comes to next poker night

Dissenters?

_Faline_ : PDA is gross

They’re gross

_Vesta_ : FALINE

_Faline_ : fine

Whatever

U owe me vodka

_Fallon_ : I’m in and I want some of the vodka

_Kaya_ : oh hell yes pls yes

_Thea_ : name of your sex tape. And also yes

_Fallon_ : gross

_Lin:_ imogen and I think this sounds like fun :)

_Sorrel_ : this will not be fun. It will be a shit show. Ves’ idea, Ves’ fault.

_Vesta_ : ARE YOU IN OR NOT GODDAMN IT

_Sorrel_ : IM IN GODDAMN IT

_Asterin_ : it took four months of dating before you let me bring Petrah????

_Imogen_ : um yeah duh youre girlfriends last name is blueblood what the hell did you expect?

_Asterin_ : fine.

I’m doing nothing about the PDA

_Faline_ : noted

_Thea_ : I’ve been coming to poker nights since I was fifteen ;)

_Asterin_ : that’s bc kaya threatened to burn all our school uniforms if we didn’t let you join.

Too late, youre family now, but I think we should have taken her up on the offer.

_Thea_ : KISSES

_Edda_ : I’m fine w/ it. I’ll be late

I will bring my own vodka

y'all have shit taste

_Vesta_ : boooooo

_Briar_ : I am also fine with it and I won’t be late

Because I’m the better twin

E, bring enough booze for two

_Edda_ : done

_Vesta_ : whatever you both suck

Ghislaine?

Dude we’re all waiting on you

Ghislaine check your damn phone

Ghislaine

Ghislaine

Ghislaine

Ghislaine

_Ghislaine_ : MOTHER FUCKER WHAT

_Vesta_ : don’t fuck your mom its bad manners

Manon bringing Elide to poker night

yea or nea

Ghislaine

Ghislaine?

Ghislaine

_Ghislaine_ : yes, fucking okay? Yes? Couldn’t give less of shit, I like elide I don’t like you

Trying to get my SECOND phd here

Leave me to show you all up in peace

_Vesta_ : dick

No vodka for u

_Ghislaine_ : pity

_Edda_ : I WASN'T PLANNING ON SHARING

_Asterin_ : pls all go hide in a hole and never text me again

_Faline_ : look new tattoo its a knife

_Asterin_ : a deep, dark hole

_Vesta_ : POKER NIGHT IS ON

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> who else is hella excited for poker night next chapter??
> 
> God I love writing the 13. SJM seriously missed out by not giving us more of then in the books.


	16. Genesee

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy shit - someone put their writer pants on this weekend. that someone is me. ENJOY POKER NIGHT.

_Just for the record: happiness is not bullshit._

\- Less

“So, poker night. Anything I need to know?” Elide asked, dumping her vet scrubs on the floor and stepping into Manon’s shower. God, she loved this shower. Like yeah, she also loved Manon. _But this shower_. It had water pressure, and enough space to actually turn around in, and a suspicious lack of mold. The grotty old shower in Elide’s apartment spit out a trickle of water and had indestructible fungal colonies that were nearing sentience.

She hardly ever went back anymore. There just … wasn’t a point. Maureen got to have her boyfriend Tim there basically all the time and Elide – well, Elide really loved building a life here with Manon. Her _girlfriend_. Fucking hell, Elide grinned under the warm water, Manon Blackbeak her goddamned girlfriend.

As she washed the day away, Elide heard Manon wander in. “You showering?”

“No Blackbeak, I’m watering the plants.”

Nudging the shower door open, Manon stood there and watched Elide, still wearing her oxblood red work suit and the sort of heels that made Elide weak at knees. Not bothering to say anything, Manon’s eyes tracked over Elide’s body, lingering on her breasts, her stomach, the apex of her thighs.

So, you want to play? Game on.

Tipping her head back, Elide ran fingers through her hair, letting the warm water cascade over her. Manon, it turns out, really had a thing for her hair. Brushing it, braiding it, tangling her hands in it as she came. With a wink, Elide braced her back against the wall. Casually (god, she was trying for casually), Elide said, “I had a long day at work.”

“Yeah?” Manon breathed out.

“Mhmm. Frustrating. Annoying. Tense.” With every word, Elide trailed a hand further and further down her stomach, running it lightly over the curls covering her core. And she sure as shit didn’t miss how Manon’s pupils blew black when she spread her thighs wider, that hand dipping down, down. Dragging a finger through her folds, Elide let her hips rock into the touch, softly, softly, softly. Manon stood there, hands tucked in her pants pockets, eyes fixated. Frozen. Breathless.

It really had been a long day. Elide really wanted to come against Manon. She wanted to snap her goddamned control.

Time to play with fire. Slipping one finger inside herself, Elide very deliberately let out a soft whimper.

“Out of the shower, Lochan.” And there comes the boom.

Biting down on a smile, Elide decide to fuck with Manon a little longer. “You sure?” She let her eyes slip half-shut, thrusting into herself, again and again, again and again.

“Pretty damn.”

“Since you asked so nicely.” Elide got approximately one second after she turned off the water and stepped out before Manon was all over her, pushing Elide against the nearest wall, hands in her hair, kissing her deep and dirty.

“Your suit.” Elide gasped.

“I don’t give a fuck. You – ” Manon abandoned any attempt at speaking, getting her hands under Elide’s hips and lifting her up until Elide’s legs wrapped tight around her waist.

“That’s, uh, one way to handle the height difference.” Elide let her head _thunk_ back against the wall – Manon in heels did dangerous things to her brain. Dangerous fucking things.

“Now” a kiss to her throat “I have you” a nip to her pulse “exactly where” a tongue soothing her skin “I want you.” Grinning wicked and bright , Manon started to grind their hips together and Elide gasped. The fabric of Manon’s suit pressed against her core and ignited every fucking nerve ending. Winding her arms around Manon’s shoulders, Elide kissed her and lost herself in the steady shift of their bodies.

So she didn’t see it coming when Manon stepped away from the wall and carried her over to the bathroom counter. Still trying to blink her way back to sanity, Elide murmured, “what?” as Manon set her down.

Smirking, Manon replied, “I wouldn’t worry too much, if I were you.” And then she sank to her knees.

 _Fuck_.

Because there was Manon Blackbeak, her childhood best friend, her teenage dream, the love of her life, kneeling between Elide’s legs. “Any complaints?” Manon quirked an eyebrow.

“ _Manon_.” Elide breathed out her name.

Pulling her right to the edge of the counter, Manon spread Elide’s knees wide and stared into her eyes as she licked into her core. Elide didn’t even bother for quiet. Gripping the counter edge, she cried out again and again, babbling, pleading, losing her mind against Manon’s tongue.

Manon pressed herself deeper between Elide’s thighs, slipping in and out of her entrance until Elide bucked against her mouth and Manon had to pin her hips still. “ _Please_.” Elide begged, not even knowing what she asked for. “God please Manon.” Gently sucking her clit, Manon brought Elide to the edge again and again, backed off again and again, until Elide was a shaking mess praying for salvation. “Babe.” Elide pleaded, hands twisting helplessly in Manon’s silvery hair. “Please let me come. Please.”

Looking up at Elide, Manon hummed into her core and Elide felt the ache between her legs twist tight, right to the edge of breaking. Give into the wildfire, this insanity, just give in. When Manon pressed her tongue against Elide’s clit, working it in soft circles, the orgasm finally cracked through her and she cried out, helpless to stop the fluttering of her core, the way her hips ground into Manon’s mouth.

Ragged breaths echoed in the bathroom.

“That’s my girl,” Manon said, pressing a kiss to the inside of Elide’s thigh, a breathless mess herself. Standing, she tipped Elide’s head back and kissed her deep, dirty. Elide groaned at the taste of herself on Manon’s tongue. “So. How’s the day going now?”

“I’ve had worse.” Elide stared at Manon’s lips, still half-lost in the haze of her orgasm.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Elide’s breath hitched again as Manon shrugged off her suit jacket and went to unbutton those pants that inspired Elide to never abandon her life of homosexual sin.

That’s when Manon’s front door banged open and Asterin yelled, “It’s poker night, M. Let’s move it.”

And right behind her came Vesta’s voice, “Poker night! Poker night! I’ve got vodka.”

“Fuck.” Manon swore, her palms bracing on either side of Elide’s hips. “Fuck!”

Trying to restrain a laugh for Manon’s sake, Elide kissed her cheek and said, “Any chance that they won’t figure out we’re banging in here?”

“Absolutely none.”

“Excellent.”

“Manon!” Vesta, the queen of subtle yelled, “Where the hell are you?”

“Bathroom.” Manon called back, rolling her eyes.

“Well quit trying to beautify yourself, it won’t work.”

“Fuck off Ves.”

Kissing Manon one more time, just because she could, Elide said, “Well as much fun as this is, I’m going to move before Vesta finds us in a _very_ compromising position.”

“Killjoy.” Manon muttered.

“Hey that’s my line.” Right before she slid off the counter, Elide leaned forward and whispered in Manon’s ear, “And don’t worry, Blackbeak. Tonight, when it’s just you and me, I’m going to fuck you senseless.”

“Thanks, El.” Manon bit out. “Really helpful at this exact moment.”

“I bet.” Elide grinned, really enjoying watching Manon trapped on the thin edge of her control. Wrapping herself in a towel, Elide wandered out of the bathroom and went to the doorway of their bedroom. “Hey Asterin, Vesta.” To Asterin’s credit, her eyes only widened in shock for a second and she managed to turn around before she started laughing. Vesta just stared, looking incredibly, ecstatically gleeful. Pointing at Vesta, Elide said, “We’re going to be out in a minute. Please direct all sexual jokes and innuendos to Manon. She will find them extremely entertaining.” And then she shut the door with a grin.

Dropping face first onto the bed, Manon groaned, “Can’t I just disown them and stay here.”

“Nope.” Elide lightly slapped her ass. “You might want to get changed.”

“ _I know_.”

Grabbing a pair of jeans and a slip of black silk that _technically_ counted as a shirt, Elide threw them at Manon’s head. “Wear this.”

Rolling over, Manon raised her eyebrows, “You just want to stare at my tits.”

“Yes. _Obviously_. If you don’t wear a bra I would consider it a personal favor.”

“You’re too easy Lochan.”

“And you’re still really. pent. up.” Elide walked her fingers across Manon’s stomach. “Have fun with that.”

Manon, being a mature adult, threw a pillow at her head response. When they finally made their way out of the bedroom (Manon wearing that barely-there top and no bra and a thin gold choker because she loved to drive Elide _fuck wild_ ), Vesta wolf whistled. She got a middle finger for her trouble. That did not seem to deter her. Asterin didn’t bother to say anything – she just sat on the kitchen counter and grinned and drank straight from a bottle of wine.

“ _Fucking hyenas_.” Manon muttered, grabbing her car keys and heading for the door.

Hopping off the counter and looping her arm around Elide’s waist, Asterin gave her a hug and said, “Cute dress. _Cute bra_.”

“Thanks.” Elide hip-bumped her and whispered, “I’m wondering _just_ how much I can mess with her tonight.”

“God I love poker night.” Asterin grinned. “Ves! Grab Abraxos and let’s go.”

On the drive, Vesta kept leaning forward from the backseat and saying, “So, tell me more – ” only to get cut off by what sounded like a hand covering her mouth. Asterin, what a motherfucking hero. But even as Vesta attempted to raise hell from the backseat and Asterin listed off sixteen different ways of killing someone with a spork, Manon got quieter and quieter as they neared a house Elide had only heard about but never seen. The Manor. The family home of the Blackbeak clan.

Elide knew the lore. That when Matron married Cassius St. Cloud, she brought the new world money and he brought the old world class. She could afford to maintain The Manor and he could afford to have it in the first place. Elide knew the whispered secrets. That as one of his final acts of revenge against the woman he called _my bitch of a wife_ , Cassius ensured the house came into his oldest daughter’s possession the day she turned 21. Matron apparently did _not_ take well to Lothian throwing out of her own home. And Elide knew that Manon used to hate this house with every fiber of her fucking being.

Because it was supposed to have been her home. Because it wasn’t.

Because Lothian could never be bothered to stay around. Because two-year-old Manon, still clinging to her stuffed teddy bear Mr. Wobbles, got dumped with Asterin’s mother one fine spring morning and never really got picked up again. Because Lothian would flit across the world – _Paris, Milan, Singapore, S ão Paulo_ – and then flicker back into Manon’s life like a flashbang going off in a dark room.

Sometimes it was weeks, sometimes it was months, but Lothian would show up on her sister’s doorstep (no warning, _never_ any warning), kiss Manon on the cheek with a _hi sweetie_ , and then yank her back to live at The Manor for days, for weeks, until the horizon was not wide enough to contain her life once again. And then she would leave Manon. Again. And again. And again.

Elide knew the phone calls she used to get, Manon crying and trying not to cry. Missing Asterin and furious with her mother and lonely and wanting to _just go back home_. Elide knew how she’d curl around that tiny voice, how she’d huddle in the closet of her room at Vernon’s ( _oh, the irony_ ), speaking as loud as she dared and praying to a god she didn’t believe in because it was all she could do. And Elide knew that after Lothian passed The Manor to Manon on her 21st birthday, she'd flitted out of her life for the last time. 

Now the cousins had colonized the house and Manon had made it _very_ clear that any other Blackbeak who entered the property would have hell to pay. Even Matron didn’t dare to toe over that line.

As they pulled up the long driveway, Elide muttered, “Shit, Manon. This place has lawns. Like English-lord-living-the-countryside-with-a-crazy-wife-in-the-attic lawns.”

“Really?” Manon deadpanned. “I hadn’t noticed.”

But those lawns, beautifully manicured, and the avenue of trees, billowing the wind, were nothing compared to the house. Elide finally understood why they all called it the The Manor. It broke against the lush green of the world, imposing and imperious and oddly cold, like a chill wind on a spring day.

“No wonder you hated coming here.” Elide said softly as Manon took her hand and led her across the gravel driveway.

“That and my mother couldn’t cook for shit.” Manon’s heels clicked up the granite steps to the house, a sharp, chill sound. Gently squeezing her hand, Manon said, “Prepare yourself for the madhouse El.”

“I can handle your cousins. I already know at least half of them.” Elide replied, trying to sound like she knew what the hell she was doing.

Coming up beside them, Asterin pushed one of the doors open and shook her head. “You think that now. But Vesta’s one of the best behaved and she’s basically half-feral.”

“Hey! I heard that.”

“Oh. I know.” Asterin shot Vesta a sweet grin that would have made lesser people run. Vesta just stuck out her tongue, and her middle finger for good measure.

“Lovely.” Manon muttered, walking past them into the foyer. Twenty-foot ceilings soared overhead and a marble table sat in the center of the foyer, decorated with a massive vase of lilies. Rolling her eyes, Manon paused to take off her heels and dumped them carelessly onto the table. “Come on, El. I show you where my room is.”

Behind them, Vesta choked on a word that sounded suspiciously like _what?_ Turning, Elide saw Asterin standing with her foot firmly planted on Vesta’s boot, one arm too-casually slung around the other woman’s shoulders. “Sorry!” Asterin said, “Vesta had a verbal seizure. It’s all better now.”

Manon didn’t buy it. Narrowing her amber eyes, she said, “Problem, Ves?”

“No, no!” Vesta held her hands in the air. “Just a temporary bout of shock from which I have recovered.”

“Whatever. Go find the other hyenas.”

“Aye, aye captain.”

“Ves – ”

“And I’m fleeing.” Winking at Elide, Ves darted off down a hallway and Asterin followed her, giving them a two-fingered salute.

Following Manon up the staircase, Elide carefully weighed her mood and decided that it wasn’t at critical yet. So she asked, “What was that about? With Vesta?”

Sighing, a frustrated thing, Manon said, “I don’t do … this. Show women I date the house. Or my room. Vesta’s just surprised.”

“ _Oh_.”

“Don’t let it go to your head, Lochan.” Manon nudged their hands together, still clearly a little thrown by Vesta’s comment.

Following Manon’s lead, Elide aimed for levity. “Don’t worry Blackbeak. I know you just really want my hand back down your pants.”

Manon bit back a laugh, “That must be it.”

And my god – stepping into Manon’s childhood bedroom was like falling back through time. Posters of _Xena_ covered an entire wall in the attic garret, the rest of the space decorated with heavy metal bands and … seriously? My Chemical Romance? Elide turned to Manon, grinning. “I forgot how much I missed 17-year old you.”

“The feeling is not mutual.” Manon muttered, the tips of her ears blushing red. Continuing to wander around the room, Elide saw old equestrian ribbons and lacrosse trophies pilled haphazardly on the dresser, a pile of cardigans filling the desk chair.

“You should wear these more.” Elide fingered the soft fabric, “You looked cute in them.” She remembered teenage Manon, every inch of her. The lacrosse star. The honors student. The girl who curled up in old cardigans and dumped her hair in a messy top bun, staying up too late while Elide explained chemistry for the hundredth time (Elide never minded). She remembered being so, blindingly in love. Even now, sleeping in Manon’s bed every night, her perfume imprinted on Elide’s skin, the memories sliced into her like lightning.

“Oh yeah?” Manon wandered to her side. “Because I remember you stealing my damn cardigans, falling asleep on my floor, and then eating my food at 2 am before sneaking back to Aelin’s. You looked cute in them, too, by the way.”

“Quite the pair we made.” Elide murmured. “Why didn’t we figure out our shit earlier?”

“Because, Lochan, I was a fucking idiot.”

“To be fair, I was a fucking idiot too.”

“So much has changed.” 

“I heard that.” Elide poked Manon in the ribs.

“Mhmm. That was intentional.”

Sitting on Manon’s bed and curling her feet underneath her, Elide grinned conspiratorially and said, “Well now that you’ve got me here, what do you want to do?”

“All sorts of things that we have no time for.” Manon came to stand before her, cupping her cheek. “Tragically, poker night means playing poker, not driving you insane in my bed.”

“Pity.” Elide pressed a soft kiss against Manon’s stomach, her silk shirt cool to the touch. “We got interrupted right when I started having fun.”

“God, fuck me.” Manon murmured. “But we need to go down.”

“See this, Blackbeak, this is why I call you a kill joy.”

“Try to withstand the agony, Lochan.”

“I will tell Aelin that you’re no fun.”

“One, Galathynius already knows that. Two, she might start asking follow-up questions. How badly do you want to talk to your sister about our sex life?”

“Okay, yeah, we’re going now.”

Manon: 1, Elide: 0.

Damn it. Grabbing Manon’s hand, Elide nearly made it back to the foyer when the screaming started. Like there’s-a-serial-killer-in-the-garden-house-haha-turns-out-I-am-the-serial-killer. That kind of screaming. Pausing, Elide watched Faline sprint right out the front doors carrying a pot (???) while Ghislaine ran after her, yelling, “Give me back the mac and cheese you goddamned ass motherfucker.”

Manon did not pause. Nor did she seem overly concerned (addendum: she didn’t seem concerned at all). Half looking over her shoulder, Manon said, “Shit like that happens way more than you would think. Unless there’s a dead body, I don’t care.”

“Has _that_ been known it happen?”

“Well don’t go into the attic. Kidding, El, I’m kidding. I sleep up there, and the devil will have a hell of a time with me.” And on that note, they entered poker night.

The first rule of poker night: No one skips.

The second rule of poker night: Anyone who skips answers to Manon. (It’s happened before. Not pretty.)

The third rule of poker night: We play for cash.

The fourth rule of poker night: We follow the rules and we fight fucking dirty.

The final rule of poker night: What happens in this room dies in this room. (It’s never been broken.)

Following Manon into the living room, Elide gratefully took the beer she passed to her and tried not to drink it all at once. At least the veneer of sobriety would probably be a good idea, because being in a room with the thirteen felt like standing at the bottom of an aquarium, the sharks overhead, circling, circling.

Sitting on a couch and pulling Elide close, Manon shot everyone else in the room a (not-so-subtle) middle finger and started to explain the rules of the game as Ghislaine dealt. Even then, with Manon’s arm around her shoulders and voice low in her ear, she felt twelve pairs of eyes watching her closely. Fiercely, viciously protective of the woman by her side.

The sharks are circling and circling.

Fun fact, ladies and gentlemen of the jury – Elide had no idea how to play poker. But even she could tell that the thirteen play ed a fast-paced, nasty game, big bets and big wins and bigger losses. Entertaining as hell? Absolutely. Quiet? Not on your life.

Laying her head on Manon’s shoulder, Elide murmured just loud enough for her to hear, “I don’t know shit, but I think your cards suck.”

“Thanks for vote of confidence, Lochan.”

“You need a leg up.”

“I need to murder Sorrel.”

“What if I had a suggestion that doesn’t involve a shovel.”

“Disappointing, but I’m all ears.”

“How much do you think it would throw your cousins off their game if I started to kiss you?”

“What’s the worst that can happen?” Manon replied, her voice calm, her face impassive. But Elide knew to watch her eyes – and they had gone a little wild. Well then, what is the worst that can happen?

Let’s find out.

Curling in close, Elide nuzzled Manon’s neck, brushing her lips against the achingly soft skin beneath her jaw. For a while, Elide just stayed there, keeping her touch feather-light. Then slowly, _so very slowly_ , she kissed a path up Manon’s jaw before taking her earlobe between teeth and gently tugging, flickering her tongue over the silver studs and rings running up the shell of Manon's ear. “I never said _where_ I’d kiss you,” she whispered, feeling Manon’s heart thunder against every line of her own body.

Judging by the quiet slowly emanating through the room, Elide had their attention. She grinned. Time for Phase 2. Wrapping an arm around Manon’s waist, Elide just barely slipped her hand under the hem of Manon’s shirt, an action that was simultaneously almost nothing and really fucking obvious.

Stroking a thumb over Manon’s waist, patient little circles, Elide nuzzled her cheek and smiled as the other woman shivered. Turning her head towards Elide, Manon whispered, “El, you’re distracting _me_.”

“Deal with it.”

Because Manon was right there, and because god wasn’t this game fun, Elide kissed her. Not a polite kiss. Not a patient kiss. A bit dirty, like how she said _I want to fuck you_. Eventually pulling back, Elide winked. Amber eyes glinting, the quirk of a smile at the corners of her lips, Manon winked back. As Elide kissed a path down Manon’s neck, drifted a hand higher and higher up her waist, Manon annihilated her cousins at poker. When she finally threw her _really shitty_ hand of cards down in victory, Vesta yelled, “Are you fucking kidding me?!” And Elide nearly fell off the couch laughing.

“What the fuck?” Vesta was not done – draping herself dramatically over the side of the chair, she glared at Elide from upside down. “ _You_. How the hell was I supposed to focus on fuck anything when you’ve got your ….. everything all over my cousin.”

“Was it distracting?” Elide asked innocently, batting her eyelashes. “I didn’t notice.”

Asterin groaned and dropped her head into her hands. “Fucking hell. Petrah’s going to give me so much shit when she finds out that this is why I lost. No – stop grinning.” She addressed that last comment at Manon, who was, in fact, grinning.

“Why?”

“God, you’re so cocky.” Asterin shot back.

“Tell me about it.” Elide muttered. A second of shocked silence, and then – Imogen choked on her drink, Vesta really did fall off her chair, and Asterin froze, looking like she wanted nothing more than to bleach her brain.

“Was that a sex joke?” Vesta’s voice came from somewhere under the vicinity of the coffee table. “Please let that have been a sex joke. Can we keep her? I like her.”

“Can we get rid of you?” Kaya asked, wandering back into the room and throwing a pretzel at her.

“No, no, I agree with Vesta. I like Elide” Lin, sweet Lin, looked up from her cross stitching and smiled at Elide. Apparently the last man who bothered Lin got that exact same needle stabbed into his knee. Elide had filed that fun fact under: good to fucking know.

Cocking her head to the side, Asterin carefully asked, “Lin. Any idea what we’re talking about?”

“Probably sex, you perverts. But Elide has actual manners and she brought homemade cookies, so she can stay.”

Getting off the floor, Briar said, “Y’all are useless. I’m getting booze. And it was totally a sex joke.”

“Yes!” Vesta’s fist punched the air in victory.

Laughing, Elide laid her head against Manon’s shoulder and she didn’t miss the feather-light kiss that Manon pressed against her hair. Neither did the cousins.

Somewhere deep into the second poker game, Elide started to tap out, her body sinking further and further against Manon. “You want to head up to sleep?” Manon murmured against her temple.

“Mh-nm. I’m good. Imma awake.”

“Sure, Lochan.” Another kiss, just the brush of Manon’s lips, across her forehead. The next time Elide opened her eyes, she was draped across Manon’s lap, head propped on a pillow. “Don’t move, El.” Manon said, “I’m using your back to lay out my cards.”

“Kay.” Elide mumbled, really only reluctantly here in the land of the living. It didn’t help that one of Manon’s hands rested on her lower back, drawing soft circles. Eyes flicking open and closed, closed and open, Elide watched this world bathed in amber lamp light. Asterin, Sorrel, and Vesta were the only cousins left standing, everyone else passed out across couches and blankets and pillows. Too sleepy to bother caring what her brain decided her mouth should say, Elide murmured, “Did you know that otters hold hands when they sleep? It’s so they don’t drift away.”

“Really, El?” Manon replied, clearly humoring her.

“Mhmm. And elephants can’t jump.”

Leaning over Elide, Manon said, “Someone needs to go back to sleep.”

“But we haven’t even talked about how sloths take two weeks to digest their food. It was,” _yawn_ , “in the documentary.”

“Fascinating, El. Sleep.”

“Killjoy.” Elide muttered. Dimly, already drifting off, she heard Asterin ask, “Does that happen a lot?”

Manon snorted a laugh, “Like every night. I’ve learned shocking amounts about the mating habits of tropical birds.”

The last thing Elide heard was Vesta’s gleeful, “Oh! Do tell!” before sleep took her.

+

In the dark haze of 1 am, Manon sipped whiskey and let it paint lines of fire down her throat. Eyes half open, she ignored the way Asterin watched her, watched Elide, the way they breathed against each other. Leaning further back against Asterin’s legs, Vesta continued to do serious damage to the vodka bottle. And she might not have been dumb enough to outright stare, but her eyes also drifted over the way Elide slept on Manon’s lap.

Dumping another log onto the crackling fire, Sorrel returned to their little circle and started in on her fourth cookie (it turns out homemade pumpkin cookies will win anyone over, even Manon’s fucking disaster of a family). As she settled next to Manon on the couch, Sorrel’s eyes flicked to Elide, flicked away.

“What are you going to do about her?” Asterin asked quietly. She didn’t mean Elide, and they all knew it.

“I’ll handle it.” Manon said, unable to keep the tension from leaking into her voice.

“Will you?”

“ _Yes_.” She bit out.

“Because when Matron finds out that you have a girlfriend, a real girlfriend, she will try to annihilate Elide. She’ll never accept you having something outside her control.”

Manon’s fingers spasmed against Elide’s back. “ _Asterin_ – ” she started to warn, but Asterin cut her off, sliced Manon’s words through at the knees.

“You know what she did to me and Alex.”

The room went still. Vesta’s body freezing. Sorrel’s hands clenching into fists. And Manon – Manon’s head bowed, just an inch, just surrender.

_Asterin and Alexander, the high school sweethearts, ring by spring in senior year of college. Young and free and so in madly love. Manon could never forget how her cousin’s eyes shone brighter than any sun she’d ever seen._

_The media frenzy. Asterin already a dark horse of a DJ, Alexander a goddamned Kennedy. Fucking American royalty._

_Matron’s fury. That Asterin had chosen a boy she’d never approved of. That Asterin had forged a life beyond her reach._

_The pregnancy. The goddamned hope, and then –_

_the miscarriage._

_The heartbreak and the ‘We’ll get through this. I love you. We’ll make it.’ Then came the rain the storm this bloody annihilation. Articles splashed across every gossip magazine, every trash blog, letting the world know that it was Asterin who killed her baby, Asterin with all her partying and the booze and the drugs and the fucking every man who wasn’t Alex._

_Lies. Every inch of it lies._

_But under the media's scrutiny, under his family’s pressure, under the catastrophe beating and beating against the sea wall of the world, Alex cracked. He walked away. And Asterin lost everything._

_Only twenty-two years old._

_For six months, Asterin didn’t talk to Manon. Like she’d been wiped off the face of the earth. It took Manon all that time to learn why. You see – she’d always wanted to become like her grandmother, become her grandmother. Indomitable. Unstoppable. Unbreakable. But exactly six months to the day since her sister lost everything, everything, Manon learned the truth about who was behind those articles._

_She learned exactly who her grandmother was._

_And she learned the cost of becoming indomitable, unstoppable, unbreakable._

_Without hesitating, Manon flew halfway across the globe and turned up on Asterin’s doorstep at 2 am and hugged her so fucking hard and whispered I’m sorry I’m so sorry. There on Asterin’s floor, holding tight to the first person she’d ever loved wholly and completely, Manon swore that she would never become her grandmother. She would never leave Asterin's side again. And she would burn the Matron’s kingdom down._

_You know what she did to me and Alex._

_Please, god no._

“M?” Asterin said gently.

Manon just shook her head, closing her eyes. Eventually in a calm, dead calm, voice, Manon said, “I will kill her. If she tries to touch Elide, I’m going to kill her.” _That bitch can’t take you too._ Her words sank through the room and no one flinched. The end of the Matron has been a long time coming.

“What if…” Vesta paused, shifting the vodka bottle in her hands but not drinking, “what if there’s a way to keep her off your backs for a little while longer. Until we’re ready to return all the favors she’s payed us.”

“What are you thinking?” Sorrel asked, leaning forward.

“Ibiza.”

“I’m not following.” Asterin finally rejoined the conversation, her face still a bit pale.

“Me fucking neither.” Manon muttered, taking another sip of whiskey.

Rolling her eyes, Vesta said, “Can’t believe I need to be brains here. Manon, take Elide to Ibiza. Make it so that Matron _can’t_ take her seriously.”

Sorrel, catching on fast, said, “That could work. Like, actually work.”

“I know!” Vesta shot back. “That’s why I’m talking instead of getting wasted.” Seeing Manon and Asterin’s faces, Vesta sighed, “Do I really need to … okay, fine. I’ll lay it out for you geniuses. Manon – you and Matron go to Ibiza every year to meet with Perrington about our investments in the European clubs. So bring Elide, but not like, the vet who works with shelter animals and bakes cookies and makes actually really funny innuendos.

Bring an Elide who’s in for the money and the glamour and the sex. Because no offense, but most of the girls you’re with don’t want shit beyond some Instagram photos and a one-night stand. Weirdly enough, that’s about to work in your favor.”

Downing the rest of her whiskey, Manon muttered, “Honestly, I wish could be offended.”

“Make Matron think Elide’s some dumb gold digger.” Asterin murmured, nodding slowly. “She’ll love that – watching you date another person who couldn’t give a shit about you.”

No one said Iskra's name. No one had to. Looking down as Elide’s face, peaceful and still in the firelight, Manon took a breath. “It’ll work. If El is up for it, this could work.”

Vesta grinned. “See. Knew it. Now will you give me back my poker money?”

“No.”

“Okay, you suck. Also, think carefully. Because you, Asterin, and Sorrel dress way too classy for Elide to borrow your clothes for this. And she’s going to need a wardrobe change.”

“The answer is still no. And I’m definitely not letting you dress her."

“Manon.” Vesta clicked her tongue. “I actually happen to like Elide. I would never, ever lead her astray.” She did not help her own case at this point by winking. “Frankly, the look your girl needs to go for is classy slut. As a classy slut myself, you just leave that to me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I know Lothian does not get the most positive portrayal in this chapter. But there's a lot more to her story that we will be learning later on. Buckle up. 
> 
> AND YES WE'RE GONNA BE MEETING MATRON SOON.


	17. Honey, Amber, Gold

On a quiet Tuesday morning, Manon woke up to Elide curled behind her, kissing down her neck, a hand stroking her up thigh. Gasping, half-lost in the sleep haze, arching into the touch, Manon parted her legs, laying one back over Elide’s hips. Gasping, half-gone, Manon chanted _El_ like a prayer as Elide’s fingers parted her softly, pressed circles around her clit, rocking her own hips in time to Manon’s shallow, helpless thrusts.

 _That’s it love,_ Elide whispered against her flushed skin, _That’s it, come for me._

The tips of her fingers slipped into Manon’s entrance and Manon was gone, just gone. The walls of her core clenching down, back arching, waves of an orgasm washing through her. She breathed ragged against Elide’s skin, painted in honey and amber and gold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't resist posting this little vignette. Next up - IBIZA.


	18. Omega

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM BACK. 
> 
> Please accept the most humble apologies of a procrastinating fanfic author. If it helps at all, this chapter might just be my favorite in the entire story. And it's long! And there will be more updates coming soon! So much good news! So many exclamation points! Enjoy :)

_Let me play the lion too. I will roar._

_\- William Shakespeare_

“Do people really pronounce Ibiza as _Ibitha_?”

“Tragically yes. Sorrel is one of them. Don’t ask. Don’t argue. Just pray it never comes up.” Vesta said helpfully, giving Elide a sharp smile.

“If it does come up, I will push her out of this airplane.” Manon muttered, only half-listening as she answered emails on her phone.

“Grumpy ass.” Vesta rolled her eyes. “Come on Elide. I want champagne.”

“There’s champagne?” Elide threw her hands in the air. She was not, and I’m sure this will shock you, frequently a first-class flier.

“Yeah babe.” Vesta hip-bumped her

“Keep your voices down, you’re going to bother the entire plane.” Manon muttered, eyes still on her phone (don’t believe her, look at that smile in the corner of her mouth). “Ves. Why do I even bring you?”

“Because my job title is literally _Senior Director of Social Engagement_.” Winking at Elide, Vesta added, “That’s the nice way of saying I go to our clubs, make sure everyone’s having a fabulous time and no one’s doing drugs where the cops will care.”

“Please, Ves, say that a little louder too.”

Poking Manon in the shoulder, Elide said, “No champagne for you. Just sad work emails.”

“Oh, the horror.”

Wrapping an arm around Elide’s shoulders, Vesta said, “Come on, let’s abandon her. Everyone knows I’m the fun one.” Manon gave them a middle finger as a parting gift and Elide blew her a kiss.

Taking a sip of champagne (and it was really good, like fancier than _anything_ she owned), Elide gestured to everything around them and said, “Vesta, how the hell?”

“Ah. Yes.” Vesta glanced around an airplane that didn’t even have a class below business and simply said, “Our grandfather.” Like that explained everything.

It didn’t.

Narrowing her eyes, Elide asked, “Cassius? The one who divorced your grandmother, set off for Sri Lanka, and started an ashram?”

“That’s the one! Don’t forget the bit where he took all of Matron’s jewelry and set fire to it on the front porch.” Vesta smiled like the memory kept her warm on cold nights.

“So….”

“Oh yeah! Well, he was a big-time investor in stocks. Still is – apparently ashrams have great Wi-Fi these days. Anyway. He owns a controlling stake in this airline. So whenever we need to fly international, Asterin gives him a call and … tada.” Ah. Yes. Tada. This fucking family. Philosophically, Vesta added, “It’s always Asterin who calls. She’s his favorite. But he’s a sweet guy. Sends a card for my birthday and Christmas every year.”

“Well, thank him for me.” Elide murmured, not sure how or when or why this had become her life.

Returning back to the private cabin she shared with Manon (which like, holy hell), Elide curled against her girlfriend and closed her eyes. Manon’s perfume enveloped her, comforting and warm. Elide knew this. The texture of Manon’s skin. The sound of Manon’s voice. The press of Manon’s lips against her own. Ground me down, make me steady, in this strange world that you dart through as easily as a fish in clear water.

That night, if dimming the cabin lights really meant night, Elide couldn’t sleep. Manon lay on her side a few inches away, face soft, breath easy. So Elide tried not to toss and turn (she really did), but it really didn’t work. After a half hour, she finally bothered Manon into waking up.

“El. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

Pulling Elide in by the waist, Manon kissed her. “Liar.”

“Fine. I can’t sleep.”

“Try to at least rest. It’ll be a long few days.”

“No shit Sherlock.”

Tugging Elide an inch closer, so that their bodies pressed together, Manon asked, “What, in particular, is keeping you awake?”

“I don’t know,” Elide muttered, frustrated. “I’m just … nervous, I guess.”

“You ever joined the mile-high club?”

“What!”

“Keep your voice down baby. Ever joined?”

Snuggling against Manon, Elide kissed her softly. There had been one time … god Lorcan thought doing it in the airplane bathroom might help his nerves, but Elide had chickened out, unable to face the idea of walking back, everyone knowing what she’d just done. So no, that’s a – “No. Never.”

“Care to get inducted?”

“Manon! We’re on an airplane. With other people.”

“See, that’s why there are these very convenient walls between us and everyone else. And,” Manon slipped a leg between Elide’s thighs and a hand under her shirt, dragging nails down bare skin, “that’s why you’d need to be very quiet.” Elide bit her lip, trying not to gasp at Manon’s touch. “Can you be quiet for me baby?”

“ _Manon_.” She breathed out, heart pounding, suddenly so fucking wet.

“Is that a yes?”

“Oh god.” Elide pressed her face into Manon’s shoulder, dizzy with wanting, aching at her smell, mint and spice and madness.

“You want this to continue, I’m going to need a yes, El.”

Kissing Manon, because what the fuck else was she supposed to do, oh my god, Elide whispered against her mouth, “Yes. Hell yes.”

Eye glinting wicked and bright in the dim lighting, Manon said, “You make a sound, I stop touching you. Clear?”

“Crystal.”

It turns out, Manon was not fucking around. Elide found this out the hard way. They lay face to face, Elide’s leg slung over Manon’s hip, Manon’s fingers thrusting into her, the motion shallow but steady. Breath by breath, their rhythm soothed the nerves coursing through Elide’s body, undid the tension knotted at her spine. Stroke by stroke, Elide relaxed into the heat of Manon’s body and reveled in the feeling of Manon’s breasts pressed against her own. Her fingers tangled gently with Manon’s unbound hair, mindless and glorious.

But when Manon started circling her clit, Elide let out a small gasp and Manon pulled away completely. Elide couldn’t even whimper at the loss.

“Quiet baby,” Manon breathed against her and Elide just nodded, not risking words, not risking anything that would keep Manon from slipping those two fingers back inside her. “Good.” Manon thrust in again, whispering so softly, “You’re so good. That’s my girl.”

Do not make a sound.

Do not make a sound.

Do not make a fucking sound.

Rocking gently in time to Manon’ thrusts, Elide lost herself in the sweet agony of a thumb over her clit and fingers claiming her. When the orgasm finally poured through her, thick and slow like honey, Elide kissed Manon and whispered her pleasure against her girlfriend’s tongue.

That night, she fell asleep in Manon’s arms.

+

“Vesta, are you sure?” Elide looked at herself in the mirror, eyebrows raised so high that they practically joined her hairline.

“Yes. 100% yes. You are going to melt a lot of brains tonight, Lochan. I couldn’t be prouder.” Vesta sniffed, wiping an imaginary tear off one cheek. “You know what, keep the dress. After whatever Manon does to you when she sees this, I don’t think I want it back."

“Sorry.” Elide winced.

“Oh god, don’t be. Are you kidding? This is the most fun I’ve had in a long time.”

From where she sat on Vesta’s hotel bed, Sorrel added, “I agree – you look the part. Matron will buy it. And you are going to break Manon.”

Elide turned one way, then the other, trying to adjust to this new reflection of herself. “I look like a party girl who does too much cocaine and believes in the gospel truth of the South Beach Diet.”

“Manon did actually date a girl who followed that. She was … weird.” Sorrel muttered, frowning down at an email on her phone, “Motherfucker no. I refuse to reschedule this lunch with Perrington _for the third time_.” Being Matron’s personal assistant left Sorrel really relaxed and calm. Totally zen. Zero percent risk for stress ulcers.

Making sure that Matron never learned _exactly_ how much information Sorrel funneled to Manon left her even more relaxed.

Long story short, Sorrel needed a goddamned vacation.

“Dating is a bit of generous word.” Vesta interjected, completely ignoring Sorrel’s side rant. “And she might have ended up joining a cult, but she was, objectively, hot.”

Looking between the two cousins, Elide asked, “I don’t really want to know about all of Manon’s exs, do I?”

“No.” They responded at the same time.

Coming over to wrangle a loose strand of hair, Vesta said, “Although, honestly Elide. Manon doesn’t have many real ex-girlfriends. There’s Iskra, there’s Tennessee, and there’s a shit ton of fuck buddies.”

Oh Tennessee, Tennessee. How Elide had tried to forget about her. Manon’s high school girlfriend and a constant, piercing knife in young Elide’s heart. Fuck you Tennessee.

“You’re our favorite, for the record.” Vesta patted Elide’s shoulder.

“True that.” Sorrel raised a glass of vodka. Straight vodka. Again, _Sorrel needs a vacation_. “Good luck facing down the old crone tonight. Don’t fuck it up.”

“Thanks, Sorrel.” Elide muttered. “Now, Vesta, where are those shoes?”

Passing over a pair of black stilettos, Vesta looked nervous for the first time. “Manon never learns that you got these from me, alright? I want to keep my limbs attached.”

“Don’t worry about Manon. I’ve got her handled.”

“You’re a braver woman than I, Elide.” Vesta stepped back and saluted, eyes glinting with mischief. “Let’s burn down the house.”

+

Clubs in Ibiza (or _Ibitha_ to the non-heathens among us) aren’t quite like the clubs anywhere else on earth. Louder. Bigger. Trashier. Glittzier. The music pounds harder and the rave lights flash brighter and the women … well the women are a sight to behold. The men still look ridiculous (slicked back hair and half-unbuttoned button-downs are a good look an exactly _no one_ ).

“This is a strip club.” Elide said to no one in particular, her jaw hanging open, one leg out the car door.

Vesta grinned at her from the driver’s seat. “Ah, yes, but it’s like a really expensive strip club. Manon didn’t mention that?”

“No. She didn’t.”

“Well, have fun my dearest darling.”

“If you could enjoy this a little less, I would appreciate it.”

“No can do. Light ‘em up babe.” Shooing Elide out of the car and cackling, mother fucking _cackling_ , Vesta sped off, nearly annihilating at least two evolutionarily-challenged pigeons.

“A strip club.” Elide muttered to herself. “A _really expensive_ strip club.” Oh she was going to kill Manon. Right after she took a picture of façade and sent it to Maureen, who would find this hysterical. “Fuck my life.”

Even in November, Ibiza was warm, a soft ocean breeze running over Elide’s skin. Thank god, because this slip of a black silk dress left her almost indecently exposed. The v of the neck dipped low (and folks the lady means _low_ ) between her breasts, and the straps were nothing more than thin ribbons, crossing in a X down to the small of her back. The slit that went most of way up her fucking thigh wasn’t immediately obvious until Elide did something as provocative as, say, walking. Which she did attempt, to medium success.

And oh, the heels, _the heels._ Four inches, very expensive, and honestly not very comfortable. They already hurt her ankle like a bitch, but Elide swallowed the pain down, deep down. Matron needed to believe the lie, believe her _image_ , and pain was an old friend. Elide smiled into it, all teeth, all fury.

Come hell, come high water, come at me now.

Getting immediately waved inside by the bouncer, Elide walked into her very first strip club. It was … a lot. Like, holy Jesus. All dark corners and low blue lights and – were those women dancing in suspended cages? Elide applauded them on their strategic use of glittery string. Across the main floor, more dancers swayed on elevated platforms, their bodies shimmering in the half-light.

Yep. Fucking hell. Manon was dead.

Good thing Manon was about to say the same thing about Elide. Quite the pair they would make. Because there she came, the Queen of Miami herself, dressed in a white suit so sleek and clean it seemed to split the night, lace bra clearly visible through the slip of a shirt underneath it, hair spilling down her back, amber eyes and dark heels and good god damn. Elide forgot how to breathe for an embarrassingly long amount of time.

Coming up to her, Manon took her hands, smiled, and – froze. Ah yes, it’s registering, isn’t it. The height difference, or should Elide say, the lack of a height difference. Only two inches between us now. Eyes flicking down, Manon said in a low, dangerous voice, “El, what the fuck?”

Sticking out one foot real elegant-like, Elide didn’t even bother to explain. Because Manon knew a four-inch stiletto when she saw one.

“Absolutely not, El. Fuck, I’m going to kill Vesta.”

“Funny enough, this wasn’t Vesta’s idea.” Elide said, not backing down because Manon got pissed.

“ _Your ankle_ – ”

Cutting Manon off, she shot back, “Funny enough, I know about my ankle too. You know why? Because it hurts. But I’m not taking these off, and we are selling this story to your grandmother, and I’m going to cheer the day you burn her to the ground. So get off your high horse and let’s do this.”

Manon blinked. “Do I get to disagree?”

“No. But you can tell me how pretty I look.”

That got Elide a smile. Pulling her close, Manon slid hand up Elide’s very nearly bare back and whispered into her ear, “I will always worry about you and I will help you fuck over my grandmother with everything I have. Oh and El, you don’t look pretty.” Running her tongue up the shell of Elide’s ear, she murmured, “You look really. fucking. hot. Tonight, when it’s just us, I’m going to do such filthy things to you in that dress.” Elide whimpered, a soft sound for Manon alone.

Pulling back, and quite possibly pulling her sanity back together, Manon tugged on the messy strands Elide’s ponytail. “I like this.”

“Vesta thought you would.”

“Mmmh, didn’t need to know that. Don’t want to know why Ves thinks that, either.”

Elide winked in response.

“Fuck off, Lochan.” Placing a hand on Elide’s lower back, Manon asked, “Ready to enter the den of beasts?”

“Let me play the lion.” Elide replied softly, meeting Manon’s eyes, the words leaving her lips like a prayer. As they moved through the club, Elide felt more than a few eyes trail them and she held her head high. Tonight, with Manon at her side, she felt unbreakable, indomitable.

Knives out, motherfuckers.

Elide had never met Matron, but she had seen her in pictures. They did nothing, _nothing_ , to capture the pure ice of her eyes, iron gray and unyielding. As they approached the recessed area where she and two men sat, speaking quietly, Elide felt Manon’s hand flex against her back. But her stride didn’t break and her cool expression didn’t crack. Manon never cracked.

“Grandmother. Perrington.” Manon inclined her head, no smile.

“Manon.” Matron returned the favor, hawk eyes glancing over Manon will an air of vague disapproval before flicking to Elide. And oh, _that look_. Disgust. Pure disgust.

Good.

Elide kept a vicious smile locked behind her teeth. Go ahead, call me some slut gold digger who just wants your granddaughter’s money. Call me a lion too, I will roar.

Standing up, the older of the two men, a silver fox and an absolute fucking sleaze, smiled and said, “Manon, lovely to see you as always.”

“Congrats, Perrington.” Manon smiled back, pure pit viper. “This time you almost sounded like you meant it.”

Ignoring that barb, Perrington turned and took one of Elide’s hands in both of his, “And who is your _lovely_ companion?”

“This is Elide.” Manon’s tone communicated the message loud and clear. Hands. Fucking. Off.

“Well, Well. Miss. Elide. What a pleasure.” Smiling at him, doe-eyed dumb, Elide privately vowed to one day put a bullet somewhere he would never forget.

“Likewise, I’m sure.” She simpered in reply.

Finally releasing her (thank fuck), Perrington said, “Allow me to introduce my son and heir to my business, Erawan.”

Erawan, whose sense of fashion would be only considered stylish on a Russian oligarch’s super yacht, stood and didn’t bother to play nice. He eyed Manon, one predator to another, “Blackbeak. I’ve heard so many … stories.” 

Winking, Manon said, “All the worst ones are true.”

Turning to Elide, Erawan picked up her hand and brushed his lips across it, lingering, lingering. Against her skin, he murmured, “Enchanté, Elide. You light up the room.” And Elide, playing young and dumb and goddamned stupid, _laughed_. He continued, saying, “Tell me, how did a goddess like you end up with a witch like her?”

Game on.

“Oh, you know.” Elide lowered her eyes, flicked them back up. “I like good sex.” And she pulled her hand back, going to sit by Manon, who draped an arm over her shoulders and began slowly dragging fingers up and down Elide’s bare arm.

Erawan laughed, his eyes flashing. Challenge accepted. “Oh I bet you do.”

“Manon.” Her grandmother’s voice sliced through the conversation like a knife into soft tissue. “I’m surprised to see you bring your … companion tonight.” Re: _why the hell is your fuck toy here?_

A nasty smile playing at the corners of her lips, Manon responded, “Because I’m already so fucking bored. The investment proposals Perrington’s been sending lately have been a joke. Those clubs aren’t worth shit. So I brought something better to do.” She nipped at Elide’s throat, licking the spot to soothe. And her grandmother bought the lie, her iron eyes lighting with a vicious sort of approval.

What’s that Manon had once said? Mouth off, and Matron will slap you down. Well here sat Manon, spitting in Perrington’s face.

Holding his hands up, eyes flashing out a warning sign, Perrington said, “Oh no, please, let’s not worry about business tonight. This is just a chance to chat with very old friends. I’m so glad that Manon felt … comfortable enough to bring Elide.”

“Me too, Perrington.” Manon replied, lips curled in a smirk.

Clearly done with their pissing contest, Matron shifted the conversation to a Greek resort that Elide had never heard of and didn’t care about (presumably Perrington did, because it sounded like he really thought Manon and her grandmother should invest in it).

Time to begin Phase 2. Matron had bought the lie. Now it was time to make sure she never doubted it. The first rule of strip clubs is that what happens here, stays here.

Under the pulsing lights, Elide remembered Manon softly whispering:

Rule #2: touch me. Little touches, little brushes, anything to show how badly you want to get fucked.

Rule #3: let me touch you. My hands are going to wander. Act like it’s normal for me to take you wherever, whenever, however I like.

Rule #4: there’s going to be a pissing contest between me and Erawan. Let me handle that (and oh babe, I will).

Rule #5: act like you couldn’t give less of a shit about my grandmother. She’ll smell blood in the water.

_Are you okay with this El? Manon had asked over and over again._

_Yes, Elide had said over and over again. Let’s burn down the house._

And now, Rule #6, Manon leaning over to murmur in her ear, “Look at the dancers more than you look at me.” So Elide did, eyes drifting to a stage where a blond woman dressed in nothing but a _very_ glittery string danced in time to the music.

Never taking eyes off her, Elide started to slip a hand down the inside of Manon’s thigh, keeping the motion dreamy, subconscious. In return, the hand brushing over her arm moved a small, but significant, distance as Manon started running fingers down her ribs, very nearly palming her breast. If Manon did that, here, now, Elide didn’t know … she would combust. She would light into flames.

By this point, Elide had completely lost track of the conversation and it wasn’t for lack of trying. It was because Manon goddamned Blackbeak decided to be distracting. Really. Distracting. A hand up the slit of Elide’s dress, stroking higher and higher, higher and higher. Lips brushing over Elide’s cheek, just light enough to leave her dizzy for more. Aching.

God, she was so fucking wet.

Voices washed over Elide, but they seemed to arrive from a great distance. Her whole focused centered on Manon’s hands, Manon’s mouth, the low music pounding through her.

At one point, Manon’s voice sliced through the white noise. “Perrington, I don’t give a fuck what Borris says. I give a fuck what the numbers say. And your numbers say shit.”

Then Elide lost sense of the conversation entirely, because Manon wrapped a hand around her ponytail and pulled Elide’s head back, exposing the line of her throat. Heat shot through Elide’s core at the rough, possessive touch, a whiteout, an annihilation.

Elide wanted Manon’s tongue on her breast, tongue between her legs –

“Manon.” Perrington snapped out, his mouth twisted into a thin line as he clearly struggled to control his temper, eyes tracking over _everything_ she was doing. “I’m sorry. Am I boring you?”

“Yes.” She didn’t bother to look at him. “You’ve told me nothing of interest since you got here. You want me to invest in failing clubs because you’ve already dumped too much money in, and now you’re bleeding cash.

I’ll _pay attention_ when you say something worth listening to. Until then…” Manon flicked her gaze over to him and quirked her eyebrow as if to say, _well, you see what I’ve got on my hands here_. It took every ounce of Elide’s self-control to hold still, to drag her focus away from the press of Manon’s hands, to not imagine Manon against every inch of her. A groan clawed at the back of her throat, begging to be set free.

“Quite.” Perrington finally responded, his lips pressed into a tight, thin line.

Matron hadn’t bothered to interrupt this showdown, and Elide didn’t know much, but she was pretty damn sure that’s the closest Manon’s grandmother ever got to approval. Smoothly cutting off whatever Perrington was about to say next, the Matron stood. “Ah, Adarlan has arrived. At last. We should say hello.” Before she swept off, Perrington in her wake, Matron passed a cold glance over them, gaze lingering on Erawan. “Manon, don’t play too much with your food.”

Judging by his suddenly pale face, Erawan didn’t enjoy being referred to as dinner.

Clearly trying to claw his way back to dignity, Erawan leaned forward and, eyes marking every place Manon touched her, murmured, “So Elide, tell me more about yourself. You must be something special to snare this one.” His gaze tracked up from her thighs to linger on her breasts and Elide repressed a shiver. Whatever Manon did to this fuck, she wanted a piece of carnage.

Putting on her sweetest, dumbest voice, Elide draped herself even further over Manon, one arm around her shoulder, a hand now resting high up on Manon's thigh, _this_ close to her core. “Oh me? Well my friends call me a socialite,” she let out a bright little fucking laugh, “but really my passion is philanthropy. _Just_ like my mom. She taught me that’s its always super important to share our gifts with society. And Daddy says those with much should give to the less fortunate, you know?”

“Admirable.” Erawan’s gaze shifted to her lips.

"Awww, thank you! Yeah, it’s like really special, the work that we do.” As Elide spoke, Manon took an ear lobe between her teeth and started toying with it, tonguing it. Elide fought back a gasp, a full-body shiver.

“And what is that work, exactly?”

“Oh, it’s a charity to help chihuahuas get their anal glands trimmed!”

Thank god Manon currently had her lips pressed to the nape of Elide’s neck, because for just a moment, Elide felt her girlfriend fucking _lose_ it.

“What?” Erawan choked on his drink in shock.

“Mhmm!” Elide nodded enthusiastically, enjoying herself an indecent amount. “There are just so many chihuahuas in Miami, I should know, I have two, Brutus and Julius. And you know, a lot of owners just don’t realize that when their puppers scoot their lil butts on the floor, it means they need their glands, the anal glands I mean, trimmed.

The lack of public awareness is … just shocking. Truly. When I think how poor Brutus and Julius could be scooting without relief, it just makes the work we’re doing so rewarding. We do outreach, education, all the socials of course, and we’re even funding an anal gland trimming drive!”

“Hmm.” Erawan said, clearly at a loss for what actual words would be useful in this situation. Elide just smiled and smiled. She could talk about anal glands all day, bitch. Manon buried her smile against Elide’s jaw, kissing her softly.

Clearing his throat, Erawan decided that Manon was the less terrifying conversational prospect at the moment. “When she’s not working to save the … anal glands – ”

“Trim the anal glands.” Elide interjected helpfully.

“Correct, how silly of me. Trim the glands, this one must be quite the handful for you.”

Gazing down into Elide’s dress, Manon said, “Handling her … it’s all in the touch. I imagine you wouldn’t know anything about that.” Eyes still fixed on Elide, Manon slid a hand into her dress and cupped one breast. Almost as an afterthought, she started flicking her thumb over Elide’s nipple. _Fuck. Fuck, oh fuck_. Elide tried not to press her thighs together, fought arching into that touch, every inch of her skin on fire. She felt her nipple peak under Manon’s finger, sensitive to the point of pain, but Manon didn’t let up.

Eyes going sharp, Erawan snapped, “I know what it means to fuck a woman. I mean, look at her. You know what they say, every lesbian just needs a good dicking and she’s been begging for it all night. I don’t imagine _you’re_ the one to give it to her.”

Manon’s body went still and Elide knew that calm, the killing calm. Whatever came next, it wouldn’t be pretty. But it sure as hell would be fun. Turning to look at Elide, Manon said, “Elide, babe, you want his dick?”

Dragging her eyes over Manon’s body, Elide replied, “Why would I want _him_?”

“That’s my girl.” Manon kissed her deep, bit at her lower lip, marking territory. Then she stood up, strolling the few feet over to the couch where Erawan sat. Bracing her arms on either side of his head, Manon leaned down, smiling.

Predator v. prey. Run, honey, run.

“Oh Erawan,” she murmured before ramming her knee into his dick so hard that he collapsed forward, keening. Shoving him back upright, Manon wrapped her hand around his throat, slowly, slowly cutting off air. “Hmm. Just like I thought – somebody’s compensating. Now while I have you here,” Manon remarked conversationally, “I want to share a fun fact with you.

After a dick gets cut off, you have roughly six hours to make it to the hospital and get it reattached. Beyond that, well you’re signing soprano.” Erawan let loose a small whimper as Manon squeezed just a hair tighter, her face calm, cool. “I’ve been watching the way you watch my girl. If you ever threaten to touch Elide again, if you so much as glance over her body … well, I will make sure you never reach the hospital in time.”

Releasing him, Manon tucking her hands into her pockets and sat down beside Elide. Like she and Erawan had just had a little chat, nothing to see here folks, just a man without his dignity. Gasping and massaging his throat, Erawan glared at her, fury pouring off his body in waves. Manon didn’t look concerned. Leaning back, she just crossed a heel over her knee and smiled.

Perrington, with a truly excellent sense of timing, chose that moment to reappear. “Ah, Manon, your grandmother’s been pulled away on a business call. She sends her apologies.”

“I’m sure she does.” Manon replied drily. 

Sitting next to Erawan, he nudged his son and jokingly asked, “Get her to agree to any deals once I cleared out of the way?”

Speaking for him, Manon replied, “Your son is a fucking idiot. Don’t bother wasting my time again.” Standing up, Manon offered Elide her hand. For a moment, it was just the two of them. Daniel once walked into the lion’s den, and when he walked out, he was not the same.

Neither am I. You don’t scare me.

I understand.

Burn the earth. Salt it. Never look back.

For a moment, it was only ever them. Then Manon placed her palm on Elide’s back and guided her through the club, bodies parting around them. Against Elide’s ear, Manon murmured, “You were fucking fantastic.”

“You had your hand down my dress!” Elide giggled, trying to fight it and basically failing. “Do you have any idea how hard it was to focus? You played with my tit in public!”

“In my defense, they’re nice tits Lochan.” In a more serious tone, Manon said, “Hold it together for just a bit longer. We’re not out of the woods yet.”

“Okay.” Elide murmured against Manon’s cheek, pressing a kiss there. The second they stepped into the car, Elide nearly groaned in relief, hands going down to massage her throbbing ankle. Well, that hurt like a bitch. But before she could even open her mouth to say anything, Manon shook her head, just a subtle little flick, and glanced up at the driver. Suddenly, Elide understood – we’re not out of the woods yet.

Well then game on motherfuckers. Just watch me.

Shifting across the backseat, Elide curled her legs over Manon’s lap and her arms around Manon’s shoulders. “Babe, that was like so fun. Did you think it was fun? I had fun. That Erawan dude was, like, a little weird though.” She scrunched her nose up like a baby pug. “But he was really interested in my charity, so that’s sweet. Maybe he’d donate? He seemed like a good sponsor for a gland trimming. I’ll DM him.”

Looking right into Elide eyes, her own sparking with mischief and desire, Manon said, “Stop talking about him.” Then her hand went right up Elide’s dress, cupping her core. This time Elide didn’t bother biting back a groan. But Manon had frozen, her fingers curling around underwear. “Since when,” she breathed against Elide’s ear, “do you own a lace thong?”

“What an indelicate question to ask a lady.”

Burying her face into Elide’s neck for a long moment, Manon eventually gathered herself back together long enough to murmur, “Is it mine?”

“We appreciate your donation to our charitable cause.”

“ _Sweet fuck_.”

And shit might have really escalated to rated R, except for Matron’s really awful sense of timing. Because then, right then, exactly then, was when she decided to call Manon. Answering her phone on the second ring, Manon dragged her hand down just far enough to stroke the delicate skin behind Elide’s knee. Which. You know. Fuck.

“Grandmother.” Somehow, despite _everything_ , Manon’s voice was even and neutral. “Of course it was ballsy, but Perrington doesn’t have any and I do.” Curling up against Manon’s shoulder, Elide watched the lights of Ibiza drift by, her eyes slipping closed, body easing under the soft touch of Manon’s thumb over her skin. The conversation came through in snippets, Manon’s low voice filling the car.

“Erawan is handled. We won’t be dealing with him again.”

“Pissing himself, probably.”

“Don’t worry about her. She is also … handled.” Manon snorted a laugh at whatever her grandmother said. “What the fuck else do you want me to do Ibiza? Besides. The gambit worked.

Perrington’s furious with Erawan. He’s desperate for cash. We have him exactly where we want him. He knows that the next investment proposal he brings had better be a good one, or he’s finished. Personally, I’d love to fire him. Do you think he’ll cry?” Laughing at whatever her grandmother said, Manon hung up, slipping the phone into her pocket and cupping Elide’s cheek. “Now. Where were we?”

Right outside the freaking hotel. Again, the universe and it’s agonizing sense of timing. Now Elide really had to fight her limp, every step through the lobby a dull throb.

“You alright?” Manon slipped an arm around her waist.

“Will be.”

The elevator ride seemed to last forever. Elide’s ankle hurt, and her body ached with a thousand pent up little touches, and Manon was _right there_. Except, tragically, they also shared the space with a sweet elderly couple who introduced themselves as Gerald and Geraldine, here for a holiday, grand kids paid for everything, how nice.

Yes. How nice. So maybe Manon should hold off fucking Elide against the nearest flat surface for just one more minute.

Once the door to their hotel room finally swung shut, all bets were off. Picking Elide up in her arms princess-style, Manon spun them around and said, “Did I mention that you were fantastic?”

“You might have.” Elide grinned up her, feeling like someone had ignited her chest with a million little suns.

“Good.” Manon kissed her, deep and sweet. “Because you were fucking fantastic.”

“You didn’t do half-bad yourself, Blackbeak.”

Carrying Elide into the bedroom, Manon carefully set her on the edge of the bed and then knelt at her feet. She cupped Elide’s damaged ankle in her hands, gently running her fingers over skin and muscle. “There are a few things I want to revisit.” Manon’s voice came out low and the sound did funny things to Elide’s sanity.

“Oh yeah? Because I’m wondering if Gerald and Geraldine have the room next to ours? Wouldn’t we all just be in for a surprise.”

“No. No, no. Don’t say that. Don’t even think it.” From where she knelt between Elide’s legs, Manon looked up at her through eyelashes and said in a soft, intense tone. “Because when we’re making love tonight, all I want to think about is you.”

“ _Manon_.” Elide breathed, reaching down to cup the other woman’s cheek. Was there any word in any language to encompass this?

Who could try?

“Let’s get these off you.” Gently undoing the straps of Elide’s heels, Manon eased them off her feet and tossed them to the side. She then proceeded to massage the tensed muscles in Elide’s ankles and Elide flopped back onto the bedspread, not sure how much longer she could survive the sweet agony of Manon’s hands on her skin. Without meaning to, without knowing it, Elide’s hips started shifting against the mattress, seeking anything, any relief.

It’s fair to say Manon noticed.

Because her hands started drifting higher and higher, massaging Elide’s calves, her thighs, pushing that goddamned dress up inch by inch. When Manon pressed a kiss to the inside of her left thigh, Elide’s whole body twitched. Laughing against her skin, Manon said, “Do you remember what I promised you when this evening started?”

“Mhmm.” Elide let the sound slip free. She remembered all too well.

“ _Elide_.” Manon admonished. “I’m pretty sure we’ve established by now that when I ask a question, I want an answer. What did I promise you?”

“That you would do _absolutely filthy_ things to me in this dress.” Elide arched under the memory of those words.

“And you’ve been such a good girl.” Manon kept kissing her thigh, higher and higher. “So good.”

“Yes. _Yes._ ” Elide said, already half-lost to the fire. And then she pulled her dress up till it pooled above her hips, baring _everything_ to Manon.

“El.” Manon’s pupils blew black. “Baby.” Her fingers tangled on the edges of the thong. “You know the rules.” At every word, Manon delicately licked her core through the lace and Elide gasped under her touch, heart pounding. “Seems somebody needs to be reminded. What’s your word?”

“Iron.” Elide responded, already moving up to the headboard and stretching her arms above her head, grinning, knowing exactly what would come next.

“Good girl.”

God, she loved making Manon’s control snap.

Walking to her suitcase, Manon took out one of the ties she only ever used to bind Elide, to drive her fucking insane. The silk felt cool and smooth over Elide’s skin – she sighed into its touch, Manon’s touch. With a few deft flicks, Manon used a second tie to pin Elide’s bound hands to the headboard. Stepping back, Manon slowly ran her gaze down Elide’s body, breath a little rough. Finally, she said, “That’s better. That’s how I’m going to fuck you.”

Manon’s only concession to their current activity was taking off her heels. Sitting on the bed, she made her way back between Elide’s legs and spread them wide. Elide bit her lip with a whimper as Manon pushed the dress higher once more, leaving her hips completely exposed.

“Do you have any idea how hot this is?” Manon asked, her fingers toying with the thong.

“I’m getting the picture.”

“No, I don’t think you do.” Manon tipped her head to side, eyes fixated. “You’ll get the picture when I make you come in it.” Pushing the thin scrap of fabric over Elide’s core to the side, Manon thrust a finger into her.

“Fuck!” Elide cried out, her hands straining against the restraints. Then Manon added a second finger and – “ _Fuck._ Manon!”

Moving up, Manon kissed Elide deep, rocking her whole body into every thrust. Elide cried out, again and again, into Manon’s mouth, absolutely losing her mind. Every touch, every breath, every word – Manon had been toying with her all night and the orgasm shimmering just beneath the surface built and built.

Rolling her hips just so, Manon got her palm to press against Elide’s clit and that it was it. Elide’s legs wrapped around her waist and she lost herself in the pounding, overwhelming pleasure. But as the high receded, Elide kept grinding her hips against Manon’s hand, desperate for more, her body already aching, still _so_ fucking wet.

Thrusting into Elide once more, Manon leaned back and pulled out, ignoring her keening protest. “No, baby, I don’t think so. Not yet.” Then she sucked on her fingers, and fucking hell, Elide wasn’t above begging.

“Please Manon, please. I just … I want you inside me. I need you.”

Grinning, Manon placed a wet, warm kiss on the curve of Elide’s breast. “You know what I want, El?”

“Anything.” Elide breathed, “I’ll do anything you want.” She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the sight of Manon licking her nipple through black silk.

“I want to ride your mouth until I come in it.”

“Oh god yes please.” Manon had fucked Elide like this once before, and if memory was any judge … well. Manon would lose her mind and Elide wouldn’t be far behind her. “You might actually have to take your clothes off first, love.” Elide shot back, smiling.

Smacking her ribs lightly, Manon said, “No shit. Have some patience.”

“Why? I want you on my tongue.”

“You’re so pent up.”

“You had hands down my dress and up my dress _at the same time_ in a strip club!”

“In front of my grandmother. If this is a kink of yours, we’re really going to need to talk about it.” Manon grinned, wicked and bright.

“Okay, you’re getting undressed and I’m really going to need you to stop talking about your grandmother.”

Laughing, Manon stripped down, carefully folding her clothes and placing them on the dresser before returning to the bed. Which, you know, didn’t drive Elide a little wild. She was just laying here, wet and aching, tied to the fucking headboard, while a naked Manon Blackbeak wandered around the room.

This is fine.

“Thanks for not telling me it was a strip club, by the way.”

“Surprise.” Manon winked, slowly moving up her body. “Had you ever been to one before?”

“No Manon, because unlike you I live a very normal life.”

“And you say I don’t have a sense of adventure.”

“When it comes to strip clubs, yes. When it comes to zoos, not so much.”

And then Manon very effectively shut Elide the hell up, because she was kneeling on either side of Elide’s stomach, slowly fingering herself.

“ _Fuck_ Manon.” Elide whispered, transfixed.

“I’m working on it.” Running a hand over the closely cropped hair covering her core, Manon rocked against her own touch, eyes on Elide. “I think you liked it. I think it got you so wet when I touched you. I think you wanted to come, my hand between your legs and my tongue in your mouth.”

Elide would never know if she whimpered at Manon’s words, or if the pleas to get fucked, to be touched, were echoing around her head, because her body was alight with the wanting, shaking with it. And Manon didn’t slow down. Pushing two fingers inside herself, she rolled her hips and tipped her head back, silvery hair cascading down.

“I wanted to taste you.” Manon breathed, still fucking herself. “I wanted your legs over my shoulders and your hands fisted in my hair. You had better know that all night, Elide Lochan, I just wanted you.”

Pulling out of herself with a soft gasp, Manon moved up to kneel over Elide’s chest. She went to wipe her fingers on the sheets when Elide said, “No. Let me.” And Manon stopped moving, stopped breathing, for a second, the fine muscles in her body shaking. Then with infinite, careful control, she placed her fingers in Elide’s mouth, not shifting at all as Elide licked them clean.

Something bloomed soft and bright inside Elide’s chest. Because she had told Manon once, just once, that she didn’t really like things inside her mouth now, the memories too tied to Lorcan. And Manon never, ever, forgot.

“Baby.” Manon said softly, brushing a hand down one cheek after Elide released her fingers. “You good?”

“Yeah. I don’t want to stop.” Elide smiled up at Manon, the love of her goddamned life, caught in the bright light of a million suns.

Leaning down to kiss her, every inch of their bodies pressed together, their tastes mingling on each other’s tongues, Manon asked, “What’s your signal?”

“A peace sign.”

“And what happens when you make it?”

“You stop immediately. We don’t start again unless I want to.”

“I’ve got you, El.” Manon kissed her soft and deep and slow.

This time, it was Elide who pulled back first. “I know. I trust you.”

For a shattering moment in time, Manon buried her face in Elide’s neck, the muscles in her shoulders shaking. Taking a deep breath, Manon started to kiss a path up Elide’s body. Against her pulse, she whispered, “I love you too.”

So even with desire igniting through both of them, there was a sweet gentleness to Manon’s motions when she settled her hips over Elide’s face, hands gripping the headboard. Very carefully, Manon lowered herself down and Elide put everything she didn’t know how to say into this, into kissing Manon’s core, licking into her.

I know so little for certain, but I love you.

Deeper and deeper, Elide slide her tongue through Manon’s sex, feeling the other woman’s hips rock gently against her mouth, hearing Manon’s ragged inhales, her soft exhales. For a while, Elide just sank into sensation, losing everything in the simple focus of making Manon feel good. Running her tongue over Manon’s entrance, slipping inside, slipping out, darting back in to lick and lick at her clit until Manon had to force her hips still, shaking.

“ _El_.” Manon said breathlessly, and Elide knew that tone, knew she was ready. Moving over Manon’s clit in a flat stroke, she pressed her tongue against it and massaged in broad circles. Manon’s breath came faster and her head dropped. Close, so close. Elide kept up her rhythm, not giving a fuck that her jaw ached, because Manon was close, so close.

With a sudden exhale, Manon’s orgasm ripped through her. Her body caved forward and the muscles in her core fluttered, fluttered as Elide slipped her tongue inside and licked her through it. Finally, Manon lifted herself with a muttered “ _Fuck_ ,” eyes slipping closed, hands releasing the headboard to push through her hair. “I mean, _fuck_.”

“Enjoy yourself?” Elide asked sweetly.

Looking down at her, Manon grinned and pressed a thumb against Elide’s cheek. “I should ask you the same question. You, Lochan, are a bit of a mess.”

“Umm.” Elide glanced rather pointedly to where her hands were still tied. “Bit hard to deal with that at the moment.”

“Yes, I can imagine.”

“You going to do anything about it, or am I just going to be your sex slave for all eternity?”

“Yes and yes.”

“Oh good.” Elide groaned in relief as Manon unbound her wrists.

“Alright?”

“Yeah, just a bit stiff. You know, because someone fucked my brains out.”

“Remarkable. She’s still talking.”

“Why are you so sassy after you come?”

“Just for you, Lochan.” Gathering Elide into her arms, Manon laid them back until Elide draped over her body.

“So. Blackbeak.” Elide rested her cheek on Manon’s breast. “Can I take this dress off now?”

“No.”

“ _Manon_ – ”

“ _Elide_.” Manon parroted back her tone. “I said I would do filthy things to you. And I’m not done yet.” Manon’s hands came up to cup her ass. “Unless, of course, you’re ready to go to bed.”

“Do I look like I’m ready to go to bed?” Elide shot back, pressing herself back into Manon’s hands.

“Shower.” Manon sat up, taking Elide with her.

“Huh?”

“We’re going to shower.”

“Umm, you do know that water is not an effective lubricant, right?”

“One, Lochan, this isn’t my first rodeo. Two, I never said _where_ I was fucking you.”

Alrighty then, shower it is, no complaints here. Walking into the bathroom, Manon a step behind her, Elide felt shivers crawl up her spine. She smiled. Turning the water on, Manon stood a careful few feet apart from Elide as steam filled the room. She didn’t move, but her eyes roamed everywhere, dark and wild.

Finally, Manon said softly, “Turn around.” And Elide did. “Close your eyes.” The world went dark, sensation taking over for sight. At the first touch of Manon’s fingers on her back, Elide sighed. Then she felt Manon pull the silk straps of the dress down her shoulders until it pooled at her waist and slipped down to the floor. “Lean forward and brace your hands against the counter.” Elide did, breath shaking, a desperate heat building in her core.

Running her palms down Elide’s sides, Manon stopped at the thong, fingering that scrap of fabric. But she didn’t pull it down. Instead, she put a palm against Elide’s back and pressed down, down, until Elide’s chest was flat against the marble counter. She gasped at the sudden cold, the temperature a strange, shivering pleasure.

“Is this alright?” Manon asked, stilling.

“Please don’t stop.”

So Manon didn’t. Keeping one hand pressed tight against Elide’s back, she said, “Spread your legs baby. That’s it. Good girl.” Stepping forward, Manon started rocking her hips into Elide’s, letting them both relax into the movement. Then she pulled back just far enough to slide her free hand down Elide’s ass, hovering right over her core.

Nudging the thong to the side, Manon slowed stroked a finger into Elide’s folds and lowered herself until they lay together, back to chest. Elide groaned at the sensation of Manon’s soft breasts pressed against her skin.

“God,” Manon whispered, “you’ve soaked right through this.”

“No shit.”

“Language, baby.”

“That’s what you’re going to take objection to?” Elide laughed, “Really? Shit – ” she broke off into a gasp because Manon fucking Blackbeak decided that was the moment to thrust into her hard. “ _Shit_!” And then Elide stopped saying anything, because Manon set a fast, brutal pace that had their hips smacking together, Elide’s thighs hitting the counter edge and she didn’t care she liked it she never wanted it to stop. Grabbing for one of Manon’s hands, Elide shoved it into her hair until Manon took the fucking hint and gripped it tight, yanking her head back, and Elide came just like that, crying out Manon’s name.

Later, in the shower, her body warm and spent, Elide pressed Manon against the tile and had her way with the woman she loved. Running her tongue over Manon’s breasts, Elide cupped them, one in each hand, and sucked softly on her nipples until Manon gasped, eyes slipping shut.

“Babe?” Elide said against achingly soft skin.

“Yeah. What is it?” Manon replied softly.

Elide bit her lip, “I have a question. But I – I don’t care what your answer is.”

“It’s okay, El. Ask me anything.”

“Will you turn around?”

Manon took in a deep breath, her amber eyes searching Elide’s face. Then exhaling, Manon did. More careful than she had ever been in her life, Elide ran her hands up Manon’s exposed spine, every inch of that beautiful tattoo.

 _I trust you._ Elide whispered the words into Manon’s body. _I love you._ Her hands cradled Manon’s hips as she kissed the line of her shoulder. _I’ve got you_. She slipped a hand between Manon’s legs and waited until she parted them. _I love you_. She gently pressed against Manon’s clit, gathering the other woman’s slick onto her fingers. _I’m here, I’m right here_. Pressed back-to-back, heart to pounding heart. _I love you_. Two fingers, then three fingers, because Manon could take it, Manon rocked back into it, her hips rolling deep and hard. _Steady love steady_. Elide snaked her free hand around Manon’s waist, nudged between her legs to massage her clit while thrusting into Manon’s core. _I’ve got you. Come for me baby. I’ve got you_.

And Manon – Manon didn’t make a lot of noise during sex. Her orgasms were quiet and contained, all fast breath and shaking muscles and sometimes, _sometimes_ , a bitten-off gasp.

Tonight, in Elide’s arms, _I’m here I’ve got you I love you_ , Manon cried out as she came, voice echoing off the walls. Body going lax, she let herself sink into Elide’s arms.

_I’m here._

_I’ve got you._

_I love you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I enjoyed writing this chapter an indecent amount. Who else didn't expect ANAL GLANDS to make a showing? 
> 
> And I just couldn't resist having Manon kick Perrington and Erawan's asses. That's our witch queen:)
> 
> (no pigeons were harmed in the making of this fanfic)


	19. Coven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay this is a quick little chapter bc it's been a shit day and writing the 13 makes me happy. 
> 
> Thank you to all y'all out there with the kudos and comments:) day made every time

[Coven]

Vesta: Updates! Now!

Fallon: bounty hunting is a weird occupation

Faline’s kicked three men in the dick today

I’m currently hanging out in the back of a Denny’s

With a knife

Briar: I made Patrick cry during a meeting today bc he is a shitty lawyer and I am not

Sorrel: oh is that why he was hiding in the bathroom all afternoon?

Edda: IM THE ONE WHO MADE HIM CRY  
  
QUIT STEALING MY ACCOMPLISHMENTS

Briar: why

no one can tell us apart anyway

Edda: dick

I'm still prettier

Maybe I should pity bang him?

Briar: sure

He’s dumb but hot

Text me a review

Lin: can someone help me sneak booze into my dorm

Imogen: NO

Lin: can someone other than Gee Gee help me sneak booze into my dorm

Thea: sure

What do you want?

Imogen: THEA NO

Kaya: THEA YES

Vesta: this is all great not what im fucking talking about and you know it

Sorrel: never saying this again but I’m with ves

Ghislaine: wait, what the hell happened?

Vesta: oh my god G crawl out of the book stacks once in a while

ELIDE  
  
MATRON

IBIZA

ITS NOT GOOD WHEN IM THE BRAINS OF THIS FAMILY

Kaya: when were you ever the brains of this family?

Manon: fuck off

Asterin: I want peace and quiet. I want it so badly. I had a set until 5 am last night.

So in the name of shutting you all up, here’s your mother fucking updates

(text over me I dare you)

Elide fucking killed it

Manon failed to mention it would be a strip club

Perrington got smacked down hard

Erawan got metaphorically and quite possibility literally castrated

Matron bought the rouse, all of it, thanks again to Elide and possibly a little to Manon

Elide informed Erawan that she’s a socialite/philanthropist who works for a charity to help Miami’s poor chihuahuas get their anal glands trimmed

Now fuck off

Vesta: my. hero.

Manon can I marry her

Manon: no.

Thanks for the heels. By the way.

Vesta: shit

Love you, kisses

It was her idea

Manon: oh. I know.

Ghislaine: I STILL HAVE NO IDEA WHAT’S GOING ON

Bitch you better marry elide

Kaya: does anyone know a good electrician? I’m trying to bake and I blew up the stove

Thea: fuck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all seen Teenage Bounty Hunters? That is EXACTLY how I imagine Fallon and Faline. 
> 
> Y'all haven't seen Teenage Bounty Hunters? WATCH GODDAMNED TEENAGE BOUNTY HUNTERS.


	20. Delta

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry guys it be the agnst!! 
> 
> I mean. It's these two idiots. Of course there be angst. 
> 
> thank you for all the comments and kudos, y'all are best!

_I knew every inch of you. Perfect resonance. Perfect radiance. Perfect light._

\- Unknown

It had been a bad week.

Sometimes Elide had bad weeks. Sometimes she had good weeks. Bad days. Gray days. Good days.

It had been a bad week.

A quiet week. Staring off into the distances, through walls and across horizon lines, sight beyond sight. Life after life. The place where a bloody diamond used to sit on her finger an aching, formless weight. The scar across her cheek a permanent reminder of everything that she couldn’t fucking change.

She hadn’t spent much time sleeping. She had spent a lot of time pretending to watch Netflix, curled on the couch, picking at food. Waiting for sleep to come. Waiting until the sun rose in an orange punch across the sky.

She didn’t sleep in their bed. Manon was gone on a business trip to Monaco and the sheets felt cold.

Waiting.

For the gray fog to stop rising. For the gray fog to stop descending. For her body to stop drowning in the middle.

Waiting.

+

Carefully pulling her hair into a ponytail, sleek and clean, Manon dialed Elide’s number and set the phone to speaker. She was half-way through reapplying mascara when it flipped to voicemail. “Hey baby, you’re probably asleep – god I hope you’re asleep. Sorry I couldn’t call sooner, I’ll try to catch you tomorrow. See you in three days. I love you.”

End call.

Manon starred down at the phone, tapping her nails against the sink counter. This was the second call that had gone to voicemail. The second time. She was –

Sorrel lightly knocked on the half-open bathroom door. “Hey. We need to go soon. Matron is about to have a bitch fit.”

“Oh no.” Manon deadpanned, cracking her neck. “That’s terrible.”

“Try not to piss her off, will you? I want my life to not be a living hell for the next three days.”

“You’re her personal assistant. Your life _is_ a living hell.” Manon shot Sorrel her sweetest smile, pure pit viper.

“Fuck you too.” Punching Manon in the shoulder, Sorrel rolled her eyes. “Now can we go? Or are you still trying to make yourself pretty?”

“Just for that, I’m going to make us late.”

“ _No._ ”

+

Elide woke up to another missed call from Manon.

She rolled over and groaned into the couch cushion. She wanted to talk to her girlfriend. She didn’t want to talk to her girlfriend.

She wanted to be left alone. She wanted to fall asleep in Manon’s arms.

She wanted to sleep. She wanted to scream.

She wanted to breathe.

+

 _Miami_.

Oh thank fuck, thank god, Miami.

Manon let her eyes drift shut, breathed in deep, the wet Florida heat burrowing back into her lungs. She exhaled some of the tension her body had been carrying for the past week. Because _fuck her grandmother_ , that raging cunt. By her side, Sorrel uncapped her water bottle and took a long drink (fun fact: it might be a clear liquid, but it’s not water).

They’d just seen that aforementioned cunt of a grandmother off, the chauffeured black Lexus (please watch Manon restrain an eyeroll) peeling away across the private airfield, carrying away Matron and whatever pretty young thing was warming her bed this week.

_Iskra used to curl close around Manon in the bed they’d shared and whisper that she’s inherited all of her grandmother’s nastiest traits. Iskra did so delight in reminding Manon that in all her sharpest, bloodiest edges, she was her grandmother’s own._

_‘That’s why you like bringing home rich bitches to fuck, isn’t it babe? That’s why you treat women like they’re disposable.’_

_Iskra did so love burrowing little knives in Manon’s back. Iskra was a big believer in death by a thousand cuts_

_Because Manon … she didn’t want … she wasn’t …_

_She wasn’t her grandmother._

_She wasn’t her grandmother._

_Even if the face that looked back in the mirror haunted her._

_She wasn’t her grandmother_.

 _She wasn’t her grandmother_.

“Manon?” Sorrel lightly tapped the water (ehm) bottle against her elbow. “You ready to go?”

“Yeah. Sorry.” Running a hand through her hair, a rough, impatient gesture, Manon palmed her car keys. “You still want a ride, right?”

“No, I want to fucking walk.”

“Whatever.”

Sliding in her car (at least she drove her own car like a goddamned adult, _grandmother_ ), Manon couldn’t help but smile when she saw Elide’s jacket dumped carelessly in the passenger seat. And she couldn’t stop herself from grinning when Sorrel tossed that jacket into the backseat.

“You’re so domestic.” Sorrel said, sinking low in the seat and pulling out her phone.

“Oh, go fuck yourself.”

“Again, asexual, so I’m good.”

Flipping her off, Manon grinned. “The point stands.”

“Just drive.” So Manon did. Because she was going to see El soon. See her and hug her and press her up against the nearest wall and kiss her senseless. “And remember,” Sorrel muttered, already back to answering emails, “tonight is Lin’s 21st birthday party. We’re all taking her out.”

“Oh, fuck right.”

“Did you forget?”

“No. I was busy thinking about banging El.”

“ _GROSS_.”

+

Except there wasn’t an Elide.

There was a quiet apartment.

Walking inside, Manon dumped her keys on the counter and her bag on the floor, kicked off her heels and didn’t care where they landed. “El? Babe?”

There was a very quiet apartment.

There was – she checked her phone. There was a text.

[El]

Elide: At Aelin’s. Sister thing.

I took Abraxos w me.

See u tonight.

Not even bothering with texting back, Manon just called. She’d never admit before a court or god how fast a smile broke across her face when Elide picked up on the third ring. “Hey baby.”

“Hi Manon.”

And she sure as fuck didn’t stop smiling as Elide’s voice settled into her, dropping through her body like a stone into clear water. Perfect resonance. Curling onto the couch, Manon exhaled and felt her body go easy for the first time all a week. “God, it’s good to hear your voice. I’ve,” _yawn_ , “missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too.”

“I’m sorry I kept calling when you were asleep.”

“It’s okay. I know you were busy.”

“Yeah, but …”

“Manon,” Elide gently interrupted her, “it’s okay. We both know what it’s like when Matron has you on a business trip. Did you even get any sleep?”

“No.” Manon admitted with a soft laugh.

“Yeah. I thought so. You should do that before Lin’s party tonight. I’m going to be at Aelin’s until then – so rest.”

“But El,” and Manon really couldn’t stop the soft whine in her voice, “I miss you. I don’t want to sleep.”

“You _need_ to sleep.”

“Not when I’m this pent up. It’s been a week since I’ve done so much as kissed you.”

“Sleep. Manon.”

“ _Fine_.” Curling deeper into the couch, Manon felt her eyes slip closed. “See you tonight. I love you baby.”

“Love you too.”

The line went dead.


	21. Epsilon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp y'all. I'm not sure how I feel about the next two chapters (do I like them? do I hate them? do I want to run screaming for the hills and take up the position of village witch? Unclear). What I do know is that the chapters are written and I'm throwing them to your tender mercies. 
> 
> \- Warmest wishes, a fanfic author regretting the lack of cinnamon rolls in her life

_I love you like the saint who kept faith when all was gone._

_I love you like I love you, like you never ever saw._

\- Clayton Hogermeer

The club smelled like Lorcan.

Elide stepped inside and fell back in time.

The club smelled like Lorcan.

The club smelled like Lorcan.

She tried to breathe. Here’s the problem. Every inhale. The club smelled like Lorcan. Every exhale. Everything she couldn’t change. Punch to the guts. Punch through the lungs. Here’s the issue. She couldn’t breathe.

But Elide Lochan had never surrendered to the gravity of earth, and motherfucker, she wasn’t about to start now.

So let’s do this.

Smiling, even where she couldn’t quite find the energy to try, Elide found Manon and hugged her, let herself get pulled into a kiss, pushed Manon towards the dance floor when it seemed like she was about to ask, _you okay?_

I’m fine.

Elide did not go dance. This may come as a shock, but being engaged to an abusive piece of shit who loved clubbing did not, in fact, make her any more fond of it. Bit awkward when your girlfriend runs Miami’s club scene.

Watching Asterin tug Manon into a dance, Elide sank down on one of couches in a quieter corner and took a sip of tonic water (just tonic water). Maybe here she could inhale. It would be the lord of all mercies if she could exhale too. When Manon glanced her way, Elide raised her glass with a smile. That wasn’t too hard, because Vesta had just grabbed Lin by the hips and was showing her how to dance, really _dance_ , and Ghislaine was trying (and failing) to drink Sorrel under the table, and Kaya was currently upside down on a stripper pole, and Imogen was video tapping _everything_.

So Elide smiled. Everything hurt.

She tried to breathe.

Her cheek hurt.

She tried to exhale.

Snap. Crackle. Bam.

She tried to inhale.

A body hit the floor. A body hit the floor. A body hit the floor.

That was her body on the floor.

“Hey Elide.” At the sound of Petrah’s voice, Elide’s eyes snapped open and she quickly scooted over so the other woman could sit next to her. Dressed in a black tank top and dark jeans and Doc Martens, Petrah looked about as ready to go clubbing as Elide felt.

“Hi.” Elide smiled at her. _Try Elide. Try_.

Saluting her with a glass of whiskey, Petrah took a long drink. Her careful blue eyes tracked across Elide’s face and they didn’t miss a single goddamned thing. “How are you doing?”

“Fine. Not really into the clubbing scene.”

Nodding slowly, Petrah let the lie stand. She took another drink. She gestured to the wild world around them – “It’s not my cup of tea either. We seriously ended up with the wrong women.”

That finally got Elide to laugh. “Tell me about it.”

“You know, Rin and I actually met at a club.”

“Seriously? Like bad rom-com level _met at a club_?”

“Exactly like that, actually.” Running a hand through her pixie cut, the near-black strands glinting in the neon lights, Petrah said, “I was visiting some friends in London and they dragged me out to, and I quote, _fucking enjoy myself for once_. Just because I like to be in pajamas with my tea by 10 pm doesn’t make me an old lady.” Beat. “It definitely makes me an old lady.

Anyway. We’re at this shit club – okay, so it was expensive, but between you and me, all clubs are shit. I wasn’t exactly _fucking enjoying myself_.” Petrah smiled into the memory. “And then there was this woman. She walked in and ignited the room, I swear. I couldn’t look away. She took one look at me and _laughed_. Didn’t stop laughing either when she grabbed my hands and tugged me into a dance. It couldn’t have been longer than a minute, but I wanted to know every inch of her. I wanted to know everything.

The music stopped and the beat dropped and – she was gone. With a wink, she was just gone. Five minutes later, I look up and see that she’s the new DJ.” Shaking her head softly, Petrah tapped her fingers against the rim of her glass but didn’t drink. “I couldn’t forget about her. Blond hair and dark eyes and … goddamn. One perfect dance.

Two weeks later, I’m back in Miami, walking into my new gym, and there she is. Boxing. Didn’t look half-bad doing it, either. Rin will claim she made the first move because of the club, but I’m the one who went up to her and introduced myself. Goddamned terrifying too, given that she was boxing with Manon. Did not know that they were related at the time.”

Elide snorted a laugh, because oh yeah, Manon was bad enough when you actually knew her. Approaching her and Asterin in the wild? That took a willingness to get clawed.

Knocking back the rest of her whiskey, Petrah’s eyes traced over Asterin as she danced with Thea, laughing under the wonderwall of lights. “God but I love that girl.”

“You old romantic. Go dance with her.” Elide nudged Petrah with her elbow.

Laughing, Petrah replied, “And let her win the bet? I told her I’d hold out until at least 1 am. It’s barely 12:30. Besides – you go dance with Manon.”

“Ankle.” Elide shrugged in reply.

“Is it bad today?”

“Yep.” (I can’t get myself to breathe. My cheek aches. My hand is an aching, formless weight.)

“You want me to get Manon?”

“God no.” Elide waved her hand, waved the sentence away. “I’m not bothering her – she’s enjoying herself tonight. See?” Elide gestured towards the dance floor, but Manon wasn’t there anymore. She … Elide looked around the dark club, craning her neck and … froze. Elide completely froze.

Half-numb, she softly asked, “Hey Petrah? Who’s that Manon’s talking to?”

Glancing up, Petrah probably didn’t mean to say what came out of her mouth. “Oh. That’s interesting.”

Oh. That’s not a good reaction.

Because there was Manon, leaning against the far wall, talking with a woman who looked like she’d just stumbled out of a Victoria’s Secret catalogue.

Here’s the knife. It’s the way this woman leaned in close to Manon. It’s how she laughed, letting her head fall back, exposing the long line of her throat. It’s the way she touched Manon easily, casually, like they knew each other’s bodies all too well.

_I don’t really want to know about all of Manon’s exs, do I_ , Elide had once asked Vesta.

_Do I?_

Gathering herself back together, Elide asked again, “Who is she?”

“That,” Petrah tapped on the rim of her glass like she wished it wasn’t empty, “is a question Rin is much more qualified to answer.”

“That,” Elide stared Petrah dead in the eyes, “is a question Asterin isn’t here to answer. So who is she?”

Eventually, Petrah replied, “Her name is Alessandra. As far as I know, she and Manon met in law school and have been hooking up when they’re in the same city ever since.”

Oh.

That is interesting.

“Elide – ”

But Elide just stood up. Cracked her neck. Flashed Petrah a smile. “Don’t worry about it. I’m not. Manon would never cheat on me.”

Those are the words that left her body. And Elide believed them. She really, honestly did. As an interesting side note – Elide did not go over to dance with Manon. Elide didn’t go over to Manon at all. And she definitely didn’t notice the way Alessandra made Manon laugh and laugh. Didn’t watch the body language that hummed between them, how goddamned _good_ they looked together – all long limbs and high heels and sleek dresses. Didn’t glance down at her own ruined ankle and third-best jeans and bite back a scream.

_You are having a panic attack_. That’s what her therapist would say. _Find a safe space, a quiet space, to simply breathe_. That’s what her therapist would tell her to do. _It is okay to remove yourself from the situation. You don’t owe anyone anything._

Stumbling to the women’s bathroom, that safe haven of long cries and drunken nights, Elide slammed a stall door behind her and called her sister. Aelin picked up on the second ring and Elide didn’t even give her a chance to say hi. “Linny.” Goddamned it, she hadn’t meant to start crying. Not now. Not yet. “ _Linny_.”

“Ellie.” Something muffled, and then she heard Aelin murmur, _no honey, I’m fine, it’s just Ellie. Go back to sleep._

“Oh god, I woke you guys up, I’m sorry – fuck. It’s almost 1 am. I’m so sorry, I’ll – ”

“Elide. Lochan.” Aelin put on her sternest big sister voice. “Sweetheart. Sweet pea. Honey bunches of oats. Light of my life. Joy of all my days. You can always call me. You think I give a fuck that it’s 1 am? Because I don’t give a fuck."

“Rowan probably gives a fuck.” 

“Rowan got a blow job tonight. He’s fine.”

“Ew! Linny!”

“Sorry, sorry. No filter.” And Elide could practically see her sister shrugging. “Now. Love. I’m right here. Tell me what’s going on.”

In response, Elide just managed to get out, “Can I come over? Please. Now?”

“Of course. _Of course_. Where are you? Do you need a ride?”

“At this club – I’m with Manon and her cousins.” Elide pressed a hand to her forehead, trying to pull it all back together.

The line went quiet. And then, “Are you okay? Did she hurt you? Because I will fucking _kill_ her.”

“I’m fine. Linny, can I just come over?” Elide’s voice cracked. She couldn’t breathe. She could taste Lorcan’s cologne on her tongue, Lorcan on every inch of her. She could see Manon laughing, Manon lighting up under another woman’s touch.

“Yes, _yes_. Always.”

“Okay, I’m calling a Lyft. See you soon.”

“No way – I’m picking you up.”

“ _Aelin_.”

“Elide Marie Grace Margaret Lochan do not make me say it again. Thank the god I don’t believe in for Find My Friends. I’ll see you in fifteen minutes.

+

_There’s something you don’t know._

_There’s something Elide didn’t like to talk about. There’s something she didn’t like to think about. But it rang through her body like a hundred brass bells, chiming and chiming. There’s something she's tried very hard to forget._

_Lorcan’s voice. After they had sex – and sometimes he’d sleep with her just to prove that she was his – after that, Lorcan would pull her close and kiss her. Lorcan would say that it was good she’d given up Manon.  
_

_He would remind her – as if she ever needed reminding – that Manon liked hot girls._

_Manon liked girls way hotter than her._

_Manon liked girls who had never been touched the way Lorcan touched her._

_Elide tried very hard to forget his words. Elide tried very hard to remember that they were not true. Elide could never quite bring herself to say them out loud._

_There is a gray mist rising and it drowns me._

+

Moving through the club – a fish in dark waters, let me slip away – Elide spotted Faline and grabbed her arm. She didn’t get knifed or maced or otherwise inconvenienced for her trouble, so that was nice. 

“What!” Faline yelled over the thumping music.

“Can you tell Manon I had to go? Sister crisis.”

“What?” Faline yelled again, but Elide was already gone. Speaking to the universe at large, Faline muttered, “Why do I feel like I just got volunteered to be the messenger who gets shot?”

+

Because, Faline, that’s exactly what happened.

+

The ride to Aelin’s took twenty-three minutes. Probably because her sister had decided that basic traffic safety laws were now worth following.

Her mouth tasted like ash.

Her skin reeked of cologne.

Her cheek ached. And ached. And ached.

+

Aelin’s place smelled like home. Sandalwood and fresh coffee.

The second Aelin shut the door behind them, she pulled Elide into the tightest fucking hug. Kissed her temple. Shoved a cat into her arms.

“Sit. I have scones. Rowan made them, so they’re edible. But not, like, edibles. That shit’s illegal and we selectively follow the law in this household. I also have tea, but you look like you need something stronger. Wine? Okay, I saw that wince. It’s coconut water for you. And eat the damn scone.”

Elide ate the damn scone and drank the stupid coconut water and found another cat to snuggle. They purred in her arms like tiny jet engines.

She didn’t talk about it.

And Aelin didn’t ask. She pressed another kiss against Elide’s hair and she didn’t ask.

+

It took Manon way longer than it should have to realize something was wrong.

+

Elide got a shower and washed away everything she didn’t know how to carry.

+

_I don’t like these memories_.

_I’ve tried very hard to forget._

_I don’t think it’s working._

+

“Manon!”

Rolling her eyes, Manon murmured, _sorry Lis_ , and turned to look at her extremely annoying cousin. “Faline. What?”

“I need to talk to you for a second.”

“Now?”

“No. In six years. I’m just bothering you now for fun.”

“Whatever.” Manon grabbed Faline’s arm and pulled her to the side. “What?”

“You going to kill me if I tell you?”

“Probably. Spit it out.”

“Jesus. You know, I’ve chased down convicts more pleasant than you.”

Manon just smiled, all teeth.

Giving Manon the middle finger (because Faline was a real fucking masochist), she said, “Elide told me to tell you that she had to go. Sister crisis, apparently.”

“Sorry?” Manon had to blink – because her heart had – Elide had been quiet all night – and now – oh shit – her heart had dropped a beat.

“Elide left.” Faline held up two fingers and mimed walking away. “The club.” Faline pointed at the ceiling. “And told me.” She pointed at herself. “To tell you that.” She pointed at Manon.

Faline had a death wish.

“Fuck.” Manon swore, shoving a hand through her hair. “ _Fuck_.”

“God, I’m glad I’m single. You have fun with that.” Giving Manon a salute, Faline went to go do shots and raise hell, order irrelevant.

+

Stepping outside, Manon took a deep breath in and let a longer breath out. The cool air snapped into her lungs and cleared some of the panic from her head. (Some). Picking up her phone, she nearly dialed, then slipped the phone back into her pocket. Repeated the motion again and again and again.

When she finally did motherfucking dial, it was Aelin who picked up.

Great.

“Blackbeak. What do you need?”

Biting back a frustrated sigh, Manon replied, “Is El there?”

“She’s sleeping.”

“When she wakes up, can you ask her to call me?”

“Sure. If she wants to.”

“Aelin – ”

“Look,” the other woman snapped, “she’s exhausted, I’m exhausted, and I don’t really want to be talking to you right now. So Elide will call you back if she wants to. Personally, I don’t give a fuck. Toodles!”

Aelin hug up. 

Damn it. Manon leaned against brick wall of the club and let her head thunk back. God fucking damn it.


	22. Zeta

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UPDATE GUYS: it turns out there are cinnamon rolls. 
> 
> The universe is blessing me for posting two chapters in one night. #PraiseBe

_I love you like the wager I must win when all is lost._

_I love you like I love you, like no one can but me._

\- Clayton Hogermeer

Stalemate.

When Elide got home on Sunday, she shattered the stalemate. Manon was sitting there in the living room, pretending to watch Netflix on her laptop. “Hey.” She looked up at Elide with a quiet smile, closed the laptop with a quiet click.

“Hi.” Dropping her purse on the counter, Elide went to go make tea. That meant she could have her back turned. That meant Manon wouldn’t see her hands shaking.

_Look at how goddamned good they looked together – all long limbs and high heels and sleek dresses._

_Manon doesn’t want girls who look like you._

_Manon doesn’t want girls who get fucked like you._

_Black water rising._

Coming into the kitchen, Manon kept her movements slow, her voice quiet as she asked, “Can we talk about this?”

“Talk about what?” Elide replied, hand frozen around the mug’s handle.

“What happened last night? The way you’re avoiding my calls? Avoiding me?”

“Don’t be so dramatic.”

“El.” A sharp sigh. Manon tried to restrain it, but it slipped out anyway. “I’m not being dramatic. I’m just stating the facts.”

“Well, they’re stupid facts.” And Elide didn’t turn around, and she didn’t let go of the mug.

“Okay.” Manon let out another sigh. Slower. Deeper. She turned and walked back into the living room. “Will you come over here and talk to me?”

“Why.”

“Because it looks like we’re about to have a fight. And I’m not fighting with you in the kitchen.” _Because they both remembered the last time Elide had a fight in a kitchen. Blood on her face and snap. crackle. bam._ “Please. El. Let’s talk about this.”

“Okay.” She eventually moved. She eventually sat on the couch. She –

_Alessandra made Manon laugh._

_Alessandra made Manon light up._

_Alessandra looked like she belonged at Manon’s side. Anyone could see it. Anyone._

“Want to tell me why you won’t look me in the eyes?”

“Want to tell me why you looked like you wanted to fuck her?” The words slipped out before Elide could stop them. She didn’t want to stop them.

“Excuse me?” Manon blinked, face going pale. Edging towards well and truly pissed.

“Alessandra.” Elide spit the name. _Her_ name. “You two looked awfully cozy.”

Deep breath. “Yes, Lis and I have a history. No, it didn’t repeat itself. And it will never repeat itself.”

“Really?” Elide's voice was sharp, claws out, a wonderwall of pain. “Is that why she spent all night at your side? Is that why she looked like she wanted to screw you right there against the wall?”

“Elide.” And Manon’s voice held a warning, signal flare on the goddamned waters, but Elide couldn’t hear it.

Drowning.

_Manon likes hot girls, Elide._

_Girls who don’t get fucked the way the way I fuck you._

Burning alive.

“I can’t breathe.” Elide stood up fast, too fast, and her ankle nearly gave out, but she pushed Manon’s hands away. “I need space.” Why couldn’t she breathe? She couldn’t breathe. “I can’t do this.”

_Do you really think she’d ever want you?_

She didn’t look back.

_Do you really think she’ll ever want you?_

She couldn’t look back.

_You’re mine and she knows it._

+

Elide went to Aelin’s. She couldn’t go to her old apartment. Lorcan knew how to find her there.

+

Monday passed.

Manon didn’t call because Elide had asked her for space.

Tuesday passed.

Manon didn’t call because Elide had said she couldn’t do this anymore.

Wednesday passed.

Manon didn’t call because Elide had looked her in the eyes and said _I can’t breathe_.

Thursday – Manon felt like she couldn’t breathe. Thursday, Manon sat in their quiet apartment, staring down at her quiet phone. Did Elide really think that she would ever … that she could ever want someone else? Why did Elide look like … god … how had Manon managed to break her heart?

Their sheets were cold now. You ever get so used to having her in your bed that it snaps you clean through when the sheets go cold?

Manon Blackbeak was not the praying kind, but here, just now, she closed her eyes. She remembered the words of her mother, on the long quiet nights when life threw them back together, tempest and the storm. Two lonely bodies, looking for a candle.

_Hail mary_

_let me be full of grace_

_for thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory_

_forever and ever_

_forever and ever_

“Hey El. I – I wish I knew what to say. Umm, I’ll start with I miss you.

I’m so sorry. I swear – there is nothing between me and Lis. I love you. It’s always been you. El, please talk to me. Please come home. Call me back. Text. Hell, gate crash work. Anything. I mean it – _anything_. El, I know things are broken but give us a chance. I’m right here.

Okay? Whatever broke, I’m right here. I love you.”

_amen._

+

Thursday, Elide went to therapy.

Therapy is good. Therapy is great. You should give it a shot. Elide was certainly a fan. Except for this Thursday night when she got to sit on her therapist’s couch and tell her how she was pretty sure she’d fucked up everything. It was all so much broken glass, Humpty Dumpty down off the wall, and we all know how that story ends.

Everything, everything.

Erin listened. Erin let her cry. Erin helped her breathe for the first time in five days.

+

I miss you.

I know everything is broken, but I miss you.

Aren’t cracks just the places where light comes in?

+

Friday.

Manon sat at her desk on a Friday. 4 pm. She had at least another 3, maybe 4 hours of work to go. She certainly didn’t feel inclined to leave early. God knows, people didn’t feel inclined to stop emailing her.

At 4:30, Annabelle came in and managed to give Manon an update on the latest sales report without blushing so hard that she resembled a tomato. Instead, she just reached barely-ripe strawberry territory. Progress. Maybe she would find someone to bang this weekend and finally get over that crush she’d been harboring on Manon for the last five years. Manon was getting really sick of Sorrel giving her shit about this. She also really needed Annabelle to be able to look her in the eyes.

Whatever.

Manon had bigger problems. Manon was out of coffee. Manon hadn’t really fucking slept in four days.

_I need to go. I need space._

_I can’t do this._

_I think I broke her heart._

Lightly massaging her forehead, Manon didn’t look up until she heard a soft knock on her door. “Sorry. Sasha said you weren’t busy?”

Elide.

Manon’s head snapped up.

 _Elide_.

Her heart stopped inside her chest. For a full beat. It just stopped.

“El.” Standing up too fast, Manon had to brace a hand on her desk. Her girlfriend ( _oh god, please still be her girlfriend_ ) stood in the doorway to her office, warm and real and smiling like she was absolutely freaking out. “Come in. Of course. I’m not busy. You can always – ”

And Manon – maybe she should have been gearing up for a fight, lord knows she went through the whole world with claws out, but Elide had looked scared on Sunday and she looked scared now and –

Manon just wanted to hug her girl.

Meeting Elide halfway across the room, Manon smiled at her. Hesitant. Worried. Trying anyway. “Can I touch you?”

Elide barely finished nodding yes before Manon pulled her into a hug, lifting her clean off her feet. Burrowing one hand into Elide’s hair, the other in the soft fabric of her sundress, Manon just held on. Breathed in the scent of her honeysuckle shampoo. Breathed out. “Hi.”

“I’m sorry Manon, I’m so sorry.” Elide wrapped her arms tight around Manon’s shoulders, pressing her head against her suit coat. A sob caught in her throat. “I fucked up. I’m so sorry.”

“No, you didn’t. It’s okay, El. I’m sorry.”

“I did. I fucked up – those things I said, it’s not okay. It’s not.”

“ _It will be_.” Finally setting Elide down, Manon gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Elide Lochan, you look at me. It will be.”

Twinning her fingers together, Elide stared down at the carpet and said in a rush, “And I’m sorry I came here and I know I’m bothering you at work but I had this talk with my therapist and then I listened to your voicemail and I was scared that if I waited I’d never come and – ”

“El.” Manon tilted her head until she could meet Elide’s eyes. “I told you that you could come here. I’m glad that you’re here.”

“I thought you’d be pissed.”

“You want me to be pissed?”

“No.”

“Alright.” Taking one of Elide’s hands in hers, Manon tugged her forward until she could wrap an arm around her waist. This crack is just the place where the light gets in. “Cute dress.”

“Nice suit.”

“I try.”

Another knock on the door had Manon looking up and muttering _fuck_ as Sasha said, “Your five o’clock is here.”

Letting her eyes drift shut in sheer bloody annoyance, Manon replied, “Can you show them into the conference room? And …ask Ghislaine if she can handle it.” _God_ , her grandmother was going to light her up alive for this.

Speaking as much to Sasha as to Manon, Elide said, “Wait.” And then she took a step closer, looking up to bridge the solid six inches between their heights thanks to Manon’s heels. “I know I showed up literally unannounced. Don’t piss off Matron. Keep your job. Take the meeting. I’ll see you later.”

Wincing, Manon bit down on her lip. Because god, did she need to be in that conference room. But god, she wasn't going to fuck this up, not Elide.

“Manon.” Reaching up, Elide smoothed a hand across her shoulder. “Go. Trust me – it’s okay. I’ll see you at home.”

 _Home_.

Manon’s eyes slipped shut at the word. _Please just come home_. Making a snap decision that would also likely result in her grandmother lighting her on fire, Manon said, “Hang out here. I’ve slept in these chairs more than once. Go find one of the cousins and harass them. Make Jeff get you coffee – he’s been pissing me off lately.”

“You sure?”

“I’ll see you in an hour, okay?” Taking Elide’s hand in her own, Manon lightly pressed a kiss against her knuckles. And maybe her office walls were glass. Maybe she was done caring who saw.

+

Elide did find Imogen and Kaya down in legal. They gave her _all_ the motherfucking gossip and now she had so many questions, especially regarding last year’s office Christmas party, whether or not one of Matron’s fuck-buddies really did cocaine on the reception desk, and who the hell this Annabelle was.

Elide did not ask Jeff to get her coffee. Mostly because she figured Manon had already dropped enough wrath down upon his head.

Elide did fall asleep in Manon’s chair. It was warm there. It smelled like her.

Mint. Spice. Madness.

+

“ _Hey_.” Leaning against her desk, Manon gently ran a hand down Elide’s arm. “I’m done for the day.”

“Home time?” Elide slowly blinked her way back to the land of living.

“Yeah, babe. Home time.”

“Okay.” _Yawn_. “That’s good.”

For the first time in a long time, Manon couldn’t breathe for all the right reasons.

As they walked out of the office, Manon kept an arm looped around Elide’s waist. She didn’t care who saw. She didn’t care who knew. (It was 6 pm on a Friday, but enough people saw. Enough people knew).

The drive back home was quiet, but Elide held her hand so Manon didn’t mind.

And then it was like the last week hadn’t happened. Manon dumped her bag. Kicked off her heels. Started the tea water. Turned to Elide. “Hi.”

Hopping up onto the kitchen counter, Elide said “Hi” back.

“Do you want to chat on the couch, or the – ”

But Elide was already shaking her head. “No. Here’s good. I’m good. Because this isn’t going to be a fight.” Her eyes flicked up to meet Manon’s. “I don’t want to fight with you. I shouldn’t have made this into a fight with you.” She held out a hand. “Come here?”

So Manon did. Settling her palms on Elide’s knees, she murmured, “I don’t particularly enjoy fighting with you either.”

“That seems like a good place to start.”

_I need to tell you a story._

_Lorcan hurt me. You know that. I never told you all the ways he hurt me._

_I was too scared_.

Resting their foreheads together, Elide tangled her hands in Manon’s hair. Mindless glory.

_He’d have sex with me and then say you wouldn’t want me because he touched me._

_He’d say that you’d never want a girl who looked like me._

_He said you’d never want me._

_I didn’t want to believe him._

_I think part of me did._

Elide nudged their noses together, slowly leaning in for a kiss, and she nearly sobbed in relief when Manon tugged her close, their bodies slotting together. Gentle. Steady. My heart, my heart.

_It had been a bad week. While you were gone on the trip. I didn’t know how to tell myself. I didn’t know how to tell you._

_Then the club smelled like him and it felt like his voice lived over every inch of me. I couldn’t shake it. It haunted me, everything I had tried to forget. Everything._

Slipping off the counter, Elide took Manon’s hand in her own and tugged them towards the shower. She let Manon take off every stich of her clothes. Manon let Elide take off every stich of hers. Patient and gentle.

_Then I saw you with her and … I believed him. She was so much more beautiful than me. Than I could ever be. She fit by your side like a puzzle piece._

_It was the heels. That’s the thing that snapped me. You would never have to bend down to kiss her, because she can wear heels._

Manon kissed her way down Elide’s body, her breasts, her ribs, her thighs. She knelt before her.

_I never should have accused you of cheating. Of wanting to cheat. I was scared and I was angry and I lashed out at you and I’m sorry._

_I didn’t mean to break us. I didn’t mean to break._

Manon pressed her lips against Elide’s stomach. “I have always loved you.” Breathed there, in and out. “He doesn’t own you. Nobody owns you.” She gently kissed across delicate skin, let the heat of their bodies blur together. “You are perfect to me. You are perfect.”

_I felt so inadequate. I was terrified you would realize that. I just wanted to run._

_I hurt you._

_I couldn’t bear for Lorcan to be right. I think that really would break me – to hear you say that you don’t want me. So I ran._

_I understand if you’re angry._

_I’m so sorry._

Leading Elide into the shower, Manon pressed their bodies together under the warm spray. She held on, a hand tangled in Elide’s hair, a hand pressed to the expanse of her back. They breathed together until everything pulled tense unwound.

Let this be.

Gently kissing Elide’s temple, Manon murmured, “El, I don’t want you to ever doubt how much I love you, how much I _want_ you. Because oh my god, do I want you. That night, at the club … I hurt you. I was thoughtless and stupid and I am sorry. You are the love my life. Not her. Not anyone else. You.” Kissing across Elide’s jaw, Manon eventually said, “And I’m not mad. I would prefer if you didn’t snap at me and bolt every time things get rough. I understand why you do that. But it still hurt.”

Curling her arms around Manon’s waist, Elide pressed her forehead into Manon's shoulder. “I’ve been talking with Erin, my therapist, about what happened. And about how I handled it. About how I can handle it next time. We both deserve better than the shit I pulled.”

“I with you in this El.” Pulling her ribcage close, ribcage closest, Manon murmured, “Please don’t forget that I’m _with_ you.”

“I don’t deserve you.”

“It’s not about deserve. It’s never been about _deserve_. You think I deserve you?”

“Asterin says we deserve each other.” Elide laughed softly against her.

“Asterin is the only sane person in this family.”

“I love you Manon.”

“Good.” Manon kissed her slow and deep, their bodies going pliant under the touch. “Because I love you.”

That night, they lay together in bed, trading soft kisses and stupid stories and little touches and nuzzles and smiles. Warm sheets, steady breath. They fell asleep side-by-side, bodies intertwined at all the ragged edges. And when they woke up, the dawn light was there too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the reason I ended up writing this little trio of chapters wasn't in the name of *angst*. 
> 
> As I'm sure too many of us know all too well, trauma doesn't just show up when it's convenient, and it doesn't just go away because that would be easier. Elide is still finding the space to work through everything that happened with Lorcan, and sometimes that means things get messy. But that doesn't mean she's going to lose the people who love her.


	23. Angels

[Sorrel, Asterin]

Sorrel: Matron heard about Elide coming to the office.

She may have figured out you two are fucking serious.

She may be fucking pissed.

Asterin: lovely

you couldn’t have waited until I had my coffee?

Sorrel: It’s noon???

Asterin: since when am I up before noon???

Manon: I’m not related to either of you.

Yeah. I figured.

But El needed to see me.

If slicing her out is the price of keeping the peace, I’m not paying it.

[Asterin]

Asterin : m?

Manon: What.

Asterin: hi love you too dick

Manon: [🍆](https://instagram.com/explore/tags/%F0%9F%8D%86/)

Asterin: matron will be coming for blood

this is going to get nasty

Manon: I know.

I’m sorry.

Asterin: don’t be

I’m not

time to book tickets to Switzerland?

Manon: Not yet.

We tell the hyenas why first.

Then we burn the witch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dun dun  
> dun dun  
> dun dun dun dun dunnnnnnnnnnnnn
> 
> (cue creepy shark swimming through water music)


	24. Citrus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pure fluff no angst. I am but a humble facfic author trying to spread joy and a small, but significant, amount of chaos.
> 
> Thank you for all the comments and kudos and bookmarks! Y'all are the best.

The hammer struck on Monday. But it was Sunday. They still had a little time. They didn’t know it, but this was just the eye of the hurricane.

+

“What the hell did you do to my girlfriend?”

Briar, keeping a very firm hold on Manon’s waist, grinned. On Manon’s other side, Edda waved her fingers and winked. 

Frozen in the doorway to their apartment, Elide looked at Manon and asked, more than a little shocked, “Are you drunk?”

“Hi baby. You look hot.” Manon attempted and failed to wink. 

Briar laughed, “Oh yeah, she’s plastered.”

“But – ” Elide’s brain sputtered around this information. “But she doesn’t do drunk. She barely does tipsy.”

“Mimosas.” Briar and Edda answered at the same time. 

“I do like a mimosa.” Manon nodded. 

“Yeah Manon.” Edda rolled her eyes. “We know.”

Briar snorted. “You should see Asterin. Petrah’s going to have her hands full.”

Elide couldn’t hide her smile, but she did try to keep it contained. She’d had a sneaking suspicion that everything would go fuckity upptiy. Sure, Asterin had said that she didn’t want to celebrate her engagement to Petrah at a club. And sure, Asterin had claimed that goat yoga would be chill and brunch would be low-key. That had _clearly_ worked.

“Well here you go!” Briar dumped Manon into Elide’s arms. 

“Thanks.” Elide muttered, trying to keep Manon upright.

“Anytime.” Saluting them, the twins made a very speedy getaway. Elide couldn’t say she blamed them, although she did want to clobber them. 

Kicking the door shut, Elide said, “Alright Manon. Heels off.”

“But why?” Manon replied, leaning down so she could kiss Elide's cheek and wobbling alarmingly. 

“That’s why. I literally have no idea how you’re still walking.”

“Kay.” Manon kicked her heels off and Elide winced. My god, Manon really needed to work on her habit of treating shoes like a battering ram on the obstacle course of life. “Oh, this is much better El, now I can really kiss you,” Manon said, pressing her lips against the nape of Elide’s neck. 

“You are so not sober.” Laughing, Elide directed Manon over to the couch. “Please sit down. And for the love of god, stay down.”

“El, come back. I miss you. You and your tight little yoga pants.”

Staring up at the ceiling for long moment, Elide couldn’t tell if she wanted to laugh hysterically or start videotaping. Maybe both? Manon currently had one leg in the air while scrolling through Hulu. So both it was. 

Grabbing the love of her life some water, Elide called out, “Babe, what you doing?”

“Stretching.”

“Okay. Keep up the good work.”

“Yes ma’am.” The second she sat on the couch, Manon laid down so that her head rested in Elide’s lap. Wrapping her arms around Elide’s waist, Manon pressed her forehead against her stomach and said, voice muffled, “Can we watch _Say Yes to the Dress_? I promise to be good.”

Lies, Manon. 

Her hand was sneaking its way right up Elide’s shirt. 

“Okay, okay!” Elide said, laughing. “We can watch, but you have to keep your hands to yourself until sobriety takes over, Miss Blackbeak.”

“Whatever you say, baby.” Manon winked, snuggling in closer. 

“I’m keeping an eye on you.” Elide tried to sound stern. 

Manon nodded back, her face very serious. “Absolutely. Wouldn’t dream of getting handsy.”

“God save me.” Elide murmured, praying that the show would distract Manon. It ... kind of worked?

Halfway through the first episode, Manon made this helpful contribution:

“Did you know I’m Baby Spice?”

“What babe?”

“No, not babe. Baby Spice. From the Spice Girls. I always say that I’m Scary Spice, but Baby Spice speaks to my soul.”

“Thank you for sharing that Manon. I’ll be sure to remember.”

“Okay good.”

Twenty minutes later, Manon gave Elide a small heart attack:

“If we get married, would you wear a dress? I mean you could be a suit kind of girl. Or potato sack. Don’t want to assume. But you’d look so pretty in a white dress.”

Brushing a hand softly over Manon’s forehead, toying with the baby hairs, Elide couldn’t fight her smile. “You want to marry me, Blackbeak?”

“Duh.”

[Petrah]

Elide: is Asterin also wasted

Because Manon is FRIED

Petrah: Oh my god. 

Yes. 

Elide: I've learned that Manon is baby spice. 

Petrah: I now have a golden retriever. 

Elide: HAHAHAHA

Petrah: Her name is Margaret????

Elide: You are so whipped

Petrah: I KNOW

Elide: oh crap Manon woke up. Gotta go wrangle. Godspeed. 

Petrah: send pics. 

Elide: I want goat yoga videos. Manon hates doing the dishes. I would like incentive. 

Petrah: never say these came from me. 

+

That night, with Manon safely tucked in bed, Elide walked through their apartment. Straightening pillows. Putting away the dry dishes. Standing at the windows, watching the lights of Miami, the dark horizon of the ocean. Curling her arms around her chest, she just let herself smile. Let it light her up from the inside out.

Their apartment. Their home.

Manon had asked her a week ago, if she wanted to make moving in official. And Elide hadn’t hesitated for a second, not for a fucking beat, when she said yes and pulled Manon a hug so fast that their bodies swung around with the force of it.

Theirs, now. Ours.

Going to pressing a kiss into Abraxos’ fur, Elide went to bed and curled around Manon’s sleeping body. “I love you, baby,” she murmured against the other woman’s cheek, and Manon exhaled, all her limbs going loose as she sank back into Elide’s warmth.

I love you so much. This much.


End file.
